C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Prescience

THE NEW moon hung in the sky, the sun was low in the west,

And my betrothed and I in the churchyard paused to rest—

Happy maiden and lover, dreaming the old dream over:

The light winds wandered by, and robins chirped from the nest.

And lo! in the meadow-sweet was the grave of a little child,

With a crumbling stone at the feet and the ivy running wild—

Tangled ivy and clover folding it over and over:

Close to my sweetheart’s feet was the little mound up-piled.

Stricken with nameless fears, she shrank and clung to me,

And her eyes were filled with tears for a sorrow I did not see:

Lightly the winds were blowing, softly her tears were flowing—

Tears for the unknown years and a sorrow that was to be!