Sonnet

I still shall smile and go my careless way;
Dawn shall not see my tears,---nor shall night hear
Through broken murmurings thy name sound clear,
Nor catch old dreams of love that drift and sway---
The wistful ghosts of a forgotten day.
Nor shall the lilt of Spring, nor Autumns sere,
Awake my heart to pain, to pulsing fear,
Nor lure me from my days serene and grey.

Only one place my steps may never go,
One moorland path my feet may never climb.
O heart of mine!---the heather springy---sweet,
The loch a silver shimmer far below---
Forget that day, the haunting scent of thyme;
Forget the love all shattered at my feet.

Maimie A. Richardson