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Poem	I walked to-day, but not alone, Adown a windy, sea-girt lea, For memory, spendthrift of her charm, Peopled the silent lands for me. The faces of old comradeship In golden youth were round my way, And in the keening wind I heard The songs of many an orient day. And to me called, from out the pines And woven grasses, voices dear, As if from elfin lips should fall The mimicked tones of yesteryear. Old laughter echoed o'er the leas And love-lipped dreams the past had kept, From wayside blooms like honeyed bees To company my wanderings crept. And so I walked, but not alone, Right glad companionship had I, On that gray meadow waste between Dim-litten sea and winnowed sky.
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