Poems of Nature (Whittier)/Illustration 10

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The Mirage of Memory.

The waves are glad in breeze and sun;
The rocks are fringed with foam;
I walk once more a haunted shore,
A stranger, yet at home,—
A land of dreams I roam.

Is this the wind, the soft sea-wind,
That stirred thy locks of brown?
Are these the rocks whose mosses knew
The trail of thy light gown,
Where boy and girl sat down?
A Sea Dream. 

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