| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 946. We Walked among the Whispering Pines |
| | | By John Henry Boner |
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| IT was a still autumnal day— | |
| So sadly still and strangely bright— | |
| The hectic glow of quick decay | |
| Tinged everything with lovely light. | |
| It warmly touched the fragrant air | 5 |
| And fields of corn and crumbling vines | |
| Along the golden Yadkin, where | |
| We walked among the whispering pines | |
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| Alas, that tender hectic glow | |
| Shone in her gentle, pallid face, | 10 |
| And none save God in heaven could know | |
| My agony to see its trace— | |
| To watch those fatal roses bloom | |
| Upon her cheeks—red, cruel signs— | |
| But all of love, not of the tomb, | 15 |
| We spoke among the whispering pines. | |
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| Ah, fatal roses—never yet | |
| Have they deceived. She drooped and died. | |
| We parted and we never met | |
| Again; but often at my side | 20 |
| An angel walks,—her step I know,— | |
| A viewless arm my neck entwines. | |
| O angel love, so years ago | |
| We walked among the whispering pines. | |
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