“Coming events cast their shadow before.”

I had a vision in the summer light —

Sorrow was in it, and my inward sight

Ached with sad images. The touch of tears

Gushed down my cheeks:— the figured woes of years

Casting their shadows across sunny hours.

Oh, there was nothing sorrowful in flowers

Wooing the glances of an April sun,

Or apple blossoms opening one by one

Their crimson bosoms — or the twittered words

And warbled sentences of merry birds; —

Or the small glitter and the humming wings

Of golden flies and many colored things —

Oh, these were nothing sad — nor to see Her,

Sitting beneath the comfortable stir

Of early leaves — casting the playful grace

Of moving shadows in so fair a face —

Nor in her brow serene — nor in the love

Of her mild eyes drinking the light above

............