Like foam and fire and frost The hours dissolve and go; Let not our time be lost.
Though the day seemeth slow, Its feet are shod with fire. Ceaseless the minutes flow.
Love, let us slake desire At Life's deep well. Alas! Full soon our Youth will tire
And we be mown like grass. Make of this hour the most, Ere on light wings it pass
Like foam and fire and frost.
LOVE ALONE
TO RONALD GRAY
Breathe soft, my flute, to-night thy wonted melody Until, with careful hands, she lift the lattice-bars, Showing her face among the faces of the stars; Breathe soft, my flute, to-night till she come forth to me.
The choirs of birds are hushed within their bower of leaves, But thou must pierce the darkness and the gathered gloom, Climbing toward the lattice of her little room, Where the sweet vines have hung their garlands from the eaves.