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132              STEVENSON'S POEMS
Mid the sound of crackling faggots. So in dreams the new created Happy past returns, to-day recedes, And they hear once more,
From the old years, Yesterday returns, to-day recedes, And they hear with aged hearing warbles
Love's own river ripple in the weeds.
And again the lover's shallop ;
Lo, the shallop sheds the streaming weeds;
And afar in foreign countries
In the ears of aged lovers.
And again in winter evens
Starred with lilies .  . with stirring weeds.
In these ears of aged lovers
Love's own river ripples in the reeds.
HERE lies Erotion, whom at six years old Fate pilfered.    Stranger (when I too am cold, Who shall succeed me in my rural field), To this small spirit annual honours yield !
Bright be thy hearth, hale be thy babes, I crave And this, in thy green farm, the only grave-