Alexander Anderson

1845-1909 / Scotland

Sweet Seventeen

Never through all the years to be
Can there be such a night as that night we know,
When we two stood by a hawthorn tree,
High up on a hill where the night winds blow.
Never can come such another night,
When your whisper was warm with a maiden's love,
And the stars above us were burning bright,
They will never again shine so sweet above.
Well, well, it is something after all,
In the short fleet years that the high gods give,
If into our lives some moments fall,
So full and sweet that we know we live.
And such was that night when the wind was south,
Soft as your breath, and the sighs between,
And I clasped you, dear, and felt on my mouth
The kiss of a girl of seventeen.
The years may come, and the years may go,
Draw strength from the blood and light from the eye;
There is something yet that they do not know,
A something that will not fade or die.
And I turn myself to the gods and say,
If they hear in their halls of idle bliss,
It is out of your power to snatch away
That starry night and that long sweet kiss.
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