Somebody said, in the crowd, last eve, That you were married, or soon to be. I have not thought of you, I believe, Since last we parted. Let me see: Five long Summers have passed since then – Each has been pleasant in its own way – And you are but one of a dozen men Who have played the suitor a Summer day.
But, nevertheless, when I heard your name, Coupled with some one’s, not my own, There burned in my bosom a sudden flame, That carried me back to the day that is flown. I was sitting again by the laughing brook, With you at my feet, and the sky above, And my heart was fluttering under your look – The unmistakable look of Love.
Again your breath, like a South wind, fanned My cheek, where the blushes came and went; And the tender clasp of your strong, warm hand Sudden thrills through my pulses sent. Again you were mine by Love’s decree: So for a moment it seemed last night, When somebody mentioned your name to me.
Just for the moment I thought you mine – Loving me, wooing me, as of old. The tale remembered seemed half divine – Though I held it lightly enough when told. The past seemed fairer than when it was near, As ‘blessings brighten when taking flight, ’ And just for the moment I held you near – When somebody mentioned your name last night.