The Trysting Tree
I cut your name, long years ago,Upon our favorite tree,When we were young and all alone,I carved your name above my own,Where all the world might see.
The day was just a bit of May,A tang was in the air,The gulls were mating on the sea,The robins nesting in our tree,While you and I were there.
As on that day I see you now,With sun-gold in your hair,With eyes that shine like sparkling wine,With lips that fondly turn to mine-To me divinely fair!
The ancient tree still guards our namesAs in the olden time,And, year by year in sun and rain,I trace the letters with my caneAcross the moss and rime.
And yet, you never seek the spotAnd may not know the truth-Perhaps you have no cause to care-But long ago was buried thereThe first love of my youth.