Shining are our thoughts about you -- of the blossoms past recall,
You are still the rose of lustre -- still the fairest of them all;
In the sleep that brings the garland gathered from the bygone hours,
You are still our Mary Rivers -- still the queen of all the flowers.
Let me ask, where none can hear me -- When you passed into the shine,
And you heard a great love calling, did you know that it was mine?
In your life of light and music, tell me did you ever see,
Shining in a holy silence, what was as a flame in me?
Ah, my darling! no one saw it. Purer than untrodden dew
Was that first unhappy passion buried in the grave with you.
Bird and leaf will keep the secret -- wind and wood will never tell
Men the thing that I have whispered. Mary Rivers, fare you well!
Kingsborough
A waving of hats and of hands,
The voices of thousands in one,
A shout from the ring and the stands,
And a glitter of heads in the sun!
"~They are off -- they are off!~" is the roar,
As the cracks settle down to the race,
With the "yellow and black" to the fore,
And the Panic blood forcing the pace.
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