When the evening sun is slanting, When the crickets raise their chanting, And the dewdrops lie a-twinkling on the grass, As I climb the pathway slowly, With a mien half proud, half lowly, O'er the ground your feet have trod I gently pass. Round the empty house I wander, Where the ivy now is fonder Of your memory than those long gone away; And I feel a sweet affection For the plant that lends protection To the window whence you looked on me that day. Was it love or recognition, When you stormed my weak position And made prisoner my heart for evermore? For I felt I long had known you, That I'd knelt before the throne you Graced in Pharaoh's days or centuries before. Though your face from me was hidden, Yet the balm was not forbidden On your coffin just to see the wreath I sent. Though no word had passed between us, Yet I felt that God had seen us And had joined your heart to mine e'en as you went. Let them talk of love and marriage, Honeymoon and bridal carriage, And the glitter of a wedding la mode! Could they understand the union Of two hearts in dear communion Who were strangers in the world of flesh and blood? In my eyes the tears are welling As I stand before your dwelling, In my pilgrimage to where you lived, my fair. And ere I return to duty In this world of weary beauty, To the stillness of the night I breathe my prayer: When the last great trump has sounded, When life's barque the point has rounded, When the wheel of human progress is at rest, My beloved, may I meet you, With a lover's kiss to greet you, Where you wait me in the gardens of the blest! R. T. CHANDLER.