At Sundown

Two shadows fell, tremulous and frail, From the upland over the lake-surface pale, While the shivering reeds shook at sunset, As the swans sailed into a sea of jet.

The rippling waters, and the breeze, And the shadows that fall from the trees, Mingled and melted with the twain, A song of whitewashed away by its black refrain.

Only words remained, palpitating and few, Falling through the gloom and night's dew Like jewelled fancies rising out of a dream That live for a moment and die ere they gleam.

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Tears well out from my heart, As clouds overcast my soul, And blur my vision of thee.

Melancholy this dawn, When thy smile and words, And thy sky-shaming eyes Are not beside me to rouse me from sleep.

Though cry I without end, Yet a thought of thee heals many wounds, Why? thou ask me; how can I tell?

All thou wish to take is thine; Not even the dust of thy feet I seek, Only leave me the star of thy memory To bathe in the rain of my weeping.

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At last thou comest; Thy footsteps I hear across the ages, Over wandering fancies, Through shadows of dreams Is thy coming, Queen of queens.

This shimmering summer of life That thou bringest with thee As a gift to my silent waiting Is but what I prayed to bring To the altar of thy coming.

I spread the seat of my soul, For thee to rest thy tired limbs; And wave the fan of my heart To cool thy lotus-shaming face, Lady of light, queen of grace.

Come to my bower of worship, Where burns the incense of devotion, Lay thy rose-robed body In the shrine of my longing, Where love's rainbow-songs are ringing.

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The lingering light of the sun Takes from the chalice of the valley Its mist-perfume to wash the Moon-face with rose. In the pool at my feet the goldfishes drag their trains of brown Which cleave it into parts that ceaselessly mingle anew. The moon, silver bright Through thousand streams sends her light Into the valley aswoon, listening to the harmony of night.

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I have drunk your tears with insatiate lips; I have broken like a toy the heart of your life; What have I given? your last query! The cup of my heart filled I with love; The chalice of soul with the substance of my God, For thee to drink my life's first love. Thou drankest as one that comes from a desert, Thou spiltest the nectar heedless, like mad; Yet I cursed not, nor shed tears; But loved thee, longed to live for thy love. Alas! thy tears grew salt, thy love thy self's greedy grasp,-- O, it is the end; let us part! The morning of indifference wings the gray sky; The bird-song of the other dawns the raven's shriek now,-- Shed no more tears, I tire of my drink; Break not thy heart; thy soul? Let it be still! Beyond the gray-cloud is the land of sunrise: Let us part, dear, let us be wise.

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