Poems (Cary)/Ulalie

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ULALIE.
The crimson of the maple trees Is lighted by the moon's soft glow;Oh, nights like this, and things like these, Bring back a dream of long ago.For on an eve as sweet as this— Upon this bank—beneath this tree—My lips, in love's impassioned kiss, Met those of Ulalie.
Softly as now the dewdrops burned In the flushed bosoms of the flowers,Backward almost seems time to have turned The golden axis of the hours,Till, cold as ocean's beaten surf, Beneath these trailing boughs, I seeThe white cross and the faded turf Above lost Ulalie.
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