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  ― 37 ―

Campbell Town

BY Campbell Town the river creeps,
And there when there is none to see
One old in sorrow comes and weeps,
And tells a broken rosary.
No silken anguish set in chords
That beat at Pity's shining gate,
But grief that finds no meed of words
To make itself articulate;
O Campbell Town, far Campbell Town!
O Lady of the soft grey gown!

I went one day by Campbell Town,
By Campbell Town that was so fair,
In green and gold and summer-brown
When She was there, when She was there—
Her town that keeps one empty place
Through all the fulness of the years,
Her town with its so quiet face,
Whose dumb regard was more than tears;
O Campbell Town, far Campbell Town,
O Lady of the soft grey gown!

By Campbell Town the waters flow;
Perhaps she hears them singing by;
Her roses, haply, when they blow,
Are glad for her sweet presence nigh;
But grief too sharp for words to bear,
And tears too bitter-salt to flow,
Are ours for ills we could not share,
Who loved her so, who loved her so;
O Campbell Town, far Campbell Town,
O Lady of the soft grey gown!

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