Snowflakes and Sunbeams

by William Wilfred Campbell


 

OLD VOICES


 

I STAND on the the confines of the past to-night—
     The world that is gone before;
And in the dim flicker of the parlor light
Old shadows steal before my sight
     From its strange and misty shore.
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And bygone murmurs are in my ears,
     And sweet lips touch my cheeks;
And old, old tunes, that no one hears,
Now steal to me from the sad old years,
     And sweet words that no one speaks.
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But only the rythm of an old-time tune,
     That steals down the halls of time;
And comes so soft, like the far-off rune
Of a stream that sleeps through the afternoon,
     Or a distant evening chime.
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And in the silence that intervenes
     Sad voices whisper low;
Come back once more to the loved old scenes—
To the dim old region of boyhood’s dreams—
     To the sweet world you used to know.
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