SONG WAS GONE FROM ME
Dearest, once more! This I could tell and tell
Till life turned drowsy with the ceaseless note;
Dearest, once more! The words throb in my throat,
My heart beats to them like a muffled bell.
Change—Time and Change! O Change and Time, you come
Not knocking at my door, knowing me gone;
Here have I dwelt within my heart alone,
Watching and waiting, while my muse was dumb
Song was gone from me—sweet, I could not sing,
Save as men sing upon the lonely hills;
Under my hand the old chord ceased to ring,
Hushed by the grinding of the high gods’ mills.
Dearest, once more. Those mad mills had their way—
Now is mine hour. To every man his day.
GOOD WAS THE FIGHT
How have I toiled, how have I set my face
Fair to the swords! No man could say I quailed;
Ne’er did I falter; I dare not to have failed,
I dare not to have dropped from out the race.
Good was the fight—good, till a piteous dream
Crept from some direful covert of despair;
Showed me your look, that look so true and fair,
Distant and bleak; for me no more to gleam.
Then was I driven back upon my soul,
Then came dark moments; lady, then I drew
Forth from its place the round unfathomed bowl
Of sorrow, and from it I quaffed to you;
Speaking as men speak who have lost
Their hearts’ last prize—and dare not count the cost.
UNCHANGED
But you are here unchanged. You say not so
In words, but when you placed your hands in mine;
But when I saw the same old glory shine
Within your eyes, I read it; and I know.
And when those hands ran up along my arm,
And rested on my shoulder for a space,
A sacred inquisition in your face,
To read my heart, how could I doubt that charm,
That truth ineffable!—I set my soul
In hazard to a farthing, that you kept
The faith, with pride unspeakable, the whole
Course of those years in which communion slept.
Your soul flamed in your look; you read; I knew
How little worth was I, how heavenly you.