Interpretations 



as the wind carries the sound away or bears it 

 toward me, is monotonous. A single, scarcely 

 varying hum is soothing rather than exciting. 

 We dream rather than think, under its in- 

 fluence, and the thought of those gone before is 

 apt to be a controlling one: Where are they 

 now? 



With eyes as eager, sought the signs of spring, 

 With ears as willing, heard each note that fell 



Where ardent songsters made the valleys ring 

 With lover-notes that cast such potent spell; 



Theirs the same hopes; theirs, youth's unburdened brow; 



Life's earnest purpose theirs; where are they now? 



Alone, I linger where their busy feet 



Pressed, in life's urgent quest, the jrielding sod; 

 The self -same stream and leafy wood, I greet; 



No path of their's I have not often trod. 

 Sunshine and shade; gaunt oak and beeehen bough. 

 They knew them well as I; where are they now? 



Where are they now? Give heed to happy song, 

 To every soothing, whispering breeze attend; 



Where sunbeams woo them, hear the merry throng; 

 Proclaiming blessed hope, their voices blend. 



Here in the wild wood, by the winding stream, 



Their message reaches me — so doth it seem. 



147 



