A Song (Richardson)

Above us only
         The Southern stars,
And the moon o'er brimming
         Her golden bars.
And a song sweet and clear
         As the bell-bird's plaint,
Hums low in my ear
         Like a dream-echo faint.
         The kind old song --
         How did it go?
         With its ripple and flow,
         That you used to sing, dear,
         Long ago.

Hand fast in hand,
         I, love, and thou;
Hand locked in hand,
         And on my brow
Your perfumed lips
         Breathing love and life --
The love of the maiden,
         The trust of the wife.
         And I'm listening still
         To the ripple and flow --
         How did it go? --
         Of the little French song
         Of that long ago.

Can you recall it
         Across the years?
You used to sing it
         With laughter and tears.
If you sang it now, dear,
         That kind old refrain,
It would bring back the fragrance
         Of the dead years again.
         Le printemps pour l'amour --
         How did it go?
         Only we know;
         Sing it, sweetheart, to-night,
         As you did long ago.

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