Smiling with such heedless eyes,
Com’st thou from the starry skies
So to search Life’s enterprise
Dark and wild?
“FRIENDS VANISH AT MY FACE”
Friends vanish at my face; yet, as they fly,
Swoll’n with the sombre mood of conjured schism,
I hear thee say thou whom the holy chrism
Has sealed as mine eternal—“Dear, do I
Outweigh the scales; if this one form be nigh,