STANZAS TO ⸺.
Bitter bewailing
Sweet Life’s sad failing
Is unavailing
Your prayers or mine.
Years onward sweeping
Bring blight for reaping,
For laughter weeping,
Wormwood for wine.
The old sweet vision
Comes to derision
The dream Elysian
That once was ours.
The rushing river
Mocks our endeavor,
And soon will sever
My bark from yours.
One joy shall bide me
Whate’er betide me,
This still shall guide me
Till life shall fleet;
Though friends forsake me,
Fate rudely shake me,
And Time shall break me
Beneath his feet,
No power above me
From this can move me—
My Queen did love me!
One golden day
Her proud heart found me,
Her arms were around me,
Her red lips crowned me
A King for aye.
O rapturous meeting!
Thy passionate greeting
Was the high beating
Of a young soul,
For one full yearning,
Hour spurning,
The fetters burning
Of Fate’s control.
The chilling power
Of rank and dower
That sacred hour
Soon overcast,
And from our faces
Swept the faint traces
Of those embraces,
The first and last.
She may recover,
When days are over,
Some happier lover,
Forsaking me.
I, e’en though hated,
Am consecrated;
More meanly mated
Can never be.
Let new flames redden
Where light loves deaden,
Let pulses leaden
Leap forth anew;
But on this altar
Till breath shall falter,
Though all else alter,
Nought shall renew.