A CYCLE

I

A soul was once incarnate in a man;
And this unseen, incarnate thing was mine;
And, as my body grew, the soul began
To sip more fondly of the scented wine
And sugared blisses life can give at call.
It languished amid luxuries divine
Showering richly like the leaves that fall
Upon the sensuous-silent autumn air.
Pale, fleeting Pleasure took my thoughtless all;
For love, unselfish, passion-fervid, rare,
Vibrated through the discords of dull time,
Blending them into harmony; for where
Life jangled harsh, a mother's care would chime
More blissful chords than can be told in rime.