John McCrae

John McCrae

Nov 30, 1872 - Jan 28, 1918

 

Then And Now

by John McCrae

Beneath her window in the fragrant night
I half forget how truant years have flown
Since I looked up to see her chamber-light,
Or catch, perchance, her slender shadow thrown
Upon the casement; but the nodding leaves
Sweep lazily across the unlit pane,
And to and fro beneath the shadowy eaves,
Like restless birds, the breath of coming rain
Creeps, lilac-laden, up the village street
When all is still, as if the very trees
Were listening for the coming of her feet
That come no more; yet, lest I weep, the breeze
Sings some forgotten song of those old years
Until my heart grows far too glad for tears.

Source:

In Flanders Fields, And Other Poems
Copyright 1919
G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York and London
 
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