SUN-PATH
I
How should I touch your years with mine,
Yours flushed with dawn, a flight
For all ecstacy of light, of rose, of flame,
Mine shadowed even now by night!
Yet, child, blown by the dawn-wind of your name,
Tossed by the sunlight in your eyes,
Sped by the glow upon your lips, you came,
Seeking my shadow and my rest.
II
Tell me what made you run to me?
Was it the long, unsheltered way from dawn to dusk,
The hot, unclouded, copper day of truth,
Was it some legend of men’s tears and strife,
Some tale of cowards prospering in the sun,
Some sin red-flung across the lilies that men love?
Or terror which the old forget, fears
Following as you fled, some shame
Of fact too awful for your youth to bear?
III
Back to your sun-path now you run
And on with wing of bird and flight of sun.
Your youth upon its golden way
Forgets it ever asked for rest,
Forgets my desolated day.
To me you left your tears,
Your fears a-tremble,
And hunger in mine eyes for you.
And I? I leave you free.