But we are lovers in a dream
Wherefrom we may not waken yet.
Sweetheart, see: the night is gone,
Love is rising,—Love the Dawn!
Yea, for the chill years you and I
Snatch from the world a gilded cup
And in our fingers hold on high
The magic ichor of Live-or-Die,—
Laugh we to drink it up!
Mark how the war-notes wild and weird