Far quicker than a wink or beck,
Far sleeker than a juvenile,
He barely tops the giant smile
That wreathes his forehead and his neck.
Oh! sudden gold evolved from dross!
Who wrought the shining miracle?
What magic cast the dazzling spell?—
The star is here to see the boss!
THE JESTER
All the fool's gold of the world,
All your dusty pageantries,
All your reeking praise of Self,
All your wise men's sophistries,
All that springs of golden birth,
Is not half the jester's worth!
Who's the jester? He is one,
Who behind the scenes hath been,
Caught Life with his make-up off,
Found him but a harlequin
Cast to play a tragic part—
And the two laughed, heart to heart!
IN A CAFÈ
Her face was the face of Age, with a pitiful smudge of Youth,
Carmine and heavy and lined, like a jester's mask on Truth;
And she laughed from the red lips outward, the laugh of the brave who die,
But a ghost in her laughter murmured, "I lie—I lie!"
She pressed the glass to her lips as one presses the lips of love,
And I said: "Are you always merry, and what is the art thereof?"
And she laughed from the red lips outward the laugh of the brave who die,
But a ghost in her laughter murmured, "I lie—I lie!"