I shall not see the morning sky,
I shall not hear the night-wind sigh;
I shall be mute, as all men must,
In after days.
But yet, now living, fain were I
That some one then should testify,
Saying—He held his pen in trust
To Art, not serving shame or lust.
Will none?—Then let my memory die
In after days!
ON A NANKIN PLATE
Villanelle
"Ah me, but it might have been!
Was there ever so dismal a fate?"
Quoth the little blue mandarin.
"Such a maid as was never seen:
She passed, tho' I cried to her, 'Wait,'—
Ah me, but it might have been!
"I cried, 'O my Flower, my Queen,
Be mine!'—'Twas precipitate,"
Quoth the little blue mandarin.
"But then ... she was just sixteen,—
Long-eyed, as a lily straight,—
Ah me, but it might have been!