Xv

“But is it well to tell you what I felt When I beheld no change beyond the moods That gloomed or glistened in your raven eyes? When I sat singing ’neath one steadfast star Of morning with no phantoms of strange fears To slay the look or word that helped me sing: When song came easier than come buds in spring, That make the barren boughs one pomp of pearls:

Oh, let the happy day go past, And let the night be short or long, When life and love are one at last, And hearts are full of song, ’Tis sweet midsummer of the dream, And all the dreams thou hast Are truer than they seem.

And once I dreamt in autumn of Death with cadaverous eyes that gazed From out a shadow.... It was love Whose deathless eyes were raised From the deep darkness that unrolled Wild splendor; and, amazed, Thy soul I did behold.

And then it seemed that some one said, The dead are nearer than dost know. And when they tell thee love is dead,-- Although it seems ’t is so,-- Still shalt thou feel in every beat And heart-throb of thy woe Love breathing, bitter-sweet.