Romance (novel)

If we could have remembrance nowAnd see, as in the days to comeWe shall, what's venturous in these hours:The swift, intangible romance of fields at home,The gleams of sun, the showers,Our workaday contentments, or our powersTo fare still forward through the uncharted hazeOf present days. . . .

For, looking back when years shall flowUpon this olden day that's now,We'll see, romantic in dimn'd hours,These memories of ours.