220 MYSTERIES:
ELEGY, August 27th, 1898.
O have the days departed, as the leaves
Smitten by wrath of Autumn blast;
So the year, fallen from delight, still grieves
Over the happy past.
The year of barren summer, when the wind
Blew from the south unlooked-for snow,
The year when Collon, desolate and blind,
Gloomed on the vale below,
When logs of pinewood lit the little room, ©
And friendship ventured in to sit
Beside their blaze, to listen in the gloom
To wisdom and to wit;
When we discussed our hopes, and told the stories
Of happy climbing days gone by ;
The stubborn battle with the cliffs, the glories
Of the blue Alpine sky.
The keen delight of paths untrodden yet,
And new steep ice and rocky ways
Too dangerous and splendid to forget.
Those dear strong happy days!