THE HOUSE OF SIN

When Time is done at last, and the last Spring Fadeth on earth, and thy gaze seeketh mine, Watch well for one whose face beareth for sign The legend of a soul's refashioning: As I shall watch for one whose pale hands bring The first faint violet, and know them thine Grown pitiful and come to build Love's shrine Where the old Aprils wait, unfaltering. Then the great floods between us will retire, And the long path I follow down will grow To be the path thy climbing feet desire; Until we meet at last, made glad, and know The cleansing hands that made my soul as snow Have kept alive in thine the ancient fire.