In The Avenue, Auchintoul

By Rachel S Robertson

1. Up and down the Avenue,
In the summer gloaming fair,
Dreams (too bright to e'er come true);
We have lingered dreaming there.
Many a scene does fancy paint,
As the pathway we pursue,
When twilight grows more faint,
In the leafy Avenue.


8. Passed away are some of those
Who have wondered side by side;
Some have reached life's final close,
Some are o'er the ocean wide;
Some are now as wide apart,
As though death had chilled them too;
Saddening thoughts steal through the heart,
Sometimes in the Avenue.


2. When begins the breezy spring
To call forth her flowery train,
And the gladsome woodlands ring
With the song of birds again;
There come peeping, sweetly shy,
Buttercups of golden hue,
And the daisy opes her eye,
In the sheltered Avenue.


9. Ah, the past is never dead,
Memory keeps it from the tomb;
Yet, though cherished dreams may fade,
Brighter visions fill their room.
God is very wise and kind,
What is best for He'll do;
This brings comfort to the mind,
In the lonely Avenue.


3, When the spring gives willing place
To her stately sister fair,
And sweet summer's glowing face
Smiles upon us everywhere,
Overhead a verdant screen
Lightly veils the sky so blue -
Summer reigns a bounteous queen,
In the leafy Avenue.


10. Strange to think, long years ago
Ere on earth we ope'd our eyes,
Here the spring-tide flowers did grow,
'Neath the smile of sunny skies.
And beneath the trees did stray
Stalwart men and maidens true,
Dreaming - as dream to-day -
In the quaint old Avenue.


4. There the birch, with silvery stem,
Richly sheds her sweet perfume;
There the beech, like sprightly dame,
Doth her dainty robes assume.
Limes put forth their drooping flowers,
Gentle ash and sombre yew
Gladly greet the cooling showers,
In the fragrant Avenue.
11. Well it is that woodland trees
Are than maidens more discreet;
Well it is that wondering breeze
What it hears may not repeat.
Doubtless, tales of loving bliss
Whispered here have not been few;
Oft, no doubt, an ardent kiss
Stolen in the Avenue.
5. But when autumn tints appear,
And the green is turned to gold,
When the swishing scythe we hear,
Twilights turn more brief and cold;
Scarce we'll own the summer dead,
Till, to our regretful view,
Autumn leaves are thickly shed
In the pleasant Avenue.


12. Oh! the longings we have felt
On some glorious summer eves,
As the sunset hues did melt
Radiant on the quivering leaves;
Longings for poetic fire
In the anxious bosom grew -
That the Muse might tune our lyre
Fit to praise the Avenue.


6. When the hoary king in might
Holds o'er earth his icy sway,
Many a glittering gem, so bright,
Strews he o'er his frost-bound way.
When the calm moonlight serene,
Shines the sparkling branches through,
Changed into a fairy scene,
Seems the wintry Avenue.


13. Lovely spot, where'er we roam,
Treasured shall thy memory be;
Fancy often back shall come
To the hours we spent in thee;
Till life's twilight - when shall fall
O'er our hearts death's chilling dew -
Dreams of youth we'll oft recall,
And the dear old Avenue.


7. Oh! the pleasant, peaceful walks,
Up and down the well-known way;
Oh! the many merry talks,
Wise and playful, grave and gay.
And the eyes that met our own -
Grey and Hazel, brown and blue,
Brightly often have they shone,
In the shady Avenue.
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From the book of songs and poems, 'On Bogie's Banks and Bonnie Deveronside'
Rachel S. Robertson

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