Lotus

Where is the vale and mountain, And where the rock and stream, One with its life of music, The other with its gleam, Where she and I were shadows And all our world, a dream?

Between the world of waking, And the sad world of sleep, I met her, crowned with sorrow Of love no heart would keep; Within her eyes the terror Of darkness, starry deep.

And was it in the valley, Where something whispereth, “Who is it walks so dimly?” That I heard her murmur, “Death”? As if upon my eyelids The Beautiful breathed its breath.

There was no tomb before us, Nor any stone to tell Of love, or hate, or horror In heaven or in hell-- But in her look the legend, And in her eyes the spell.

And was it on the mountain, The stealthy stars had crossed To stand austere with silence, That I heard her whisper, “Lost”? As if dark eyes one moment The Terrible did accost.

There was no memoried presence Of flower or star or bird To tell of tears and parting That heartbreak once had heard-- But in her face the vision, And in her heart the word.

Where is the vale and mountain, And where the rock and stream One with its life of music, The other with its gleam, Where she and I were shadows And all our world, a dream?