Behind the pines, when sunset gleams,
The white gates of the Land of Dreams
Stand open wide,
And all adown the golden road
That leads from that most blest abode
The shadows ride,
Who in the light of common day
May now no more abide.
They leave their meads of asphodel,
The starry spaces where they dwell,
Where quiet lies:
They leave their windless, glassy sea,
The angel songs and melody
Of Paradise,
To walk again the old-time way
Once dear to mortal eyes.
With beating heart I watch them ride
Across the gathering shades that hide
That country bright;
The faces that I loved of yore,
Eyes that shall smile on me no more
With mortal light;
Shadows of all good things and fair
Come from the past to-night.
So, when the dying sunset gleams
Behind the hills, the Gate of Dreams
Stands open wide;
And all along the golden road
From those fair mansions of their God
Where they abide—
Dear memories of the days that were—
I see the shadows ride.