The sad-aisled avenues of evening stars;
The Future, like an opal dawn, unfurls
To me, and all the dreaming Long Ago
Lies wide and luring as the open Deep.
And so, still half in gloom and half in sun
Shall men and women dwell as I have dwelt.
Half happy and half sad their days shall fall,
And grief shall only learn beside the grave
How beauteous life can be, how deep is love.
As snow makes soft Earth’s vernal green, so tears