sad poem

there were three in the meadow by the brook
when i looked into your eyes
what spiteful chance steals unawares
stand here by my side
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
lived by the river-side
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
do the boys and girls still go
sad are they who know not love
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
babylon-where i go dreaming
it was many and many a year ago
never in all my life
i walk down the garden paths