Vi

I have looked in the eyes of Poesy, And sat in Song's high place; And the beautiful Spirits of Music Have spoken me face to face; Yet here in my soul there is sorrow They never can name or trace.

I have walked with the glamour Gladness, And dreamed with the shadow Sleep; And the presences, Love and Knowledge, Have smiled in my heart's red keep; Yet here in my soul there is sorrow For the depth of their gaze too deep.

The love and the hope God grants me, The beauty that lures me on, And the dreams of folly and wisdom That thoughts of the spirit don, Are but masks of an ancient sorrow Of a life long dead and gone.

Was it sin? or a crime forgotten? Of a love that loved too well? That sat on a throne of fire A thousand years in Hell? That the soul with its nameless sorrow Remembers but can not tell?