Old sorrow saps my strength; I may not flee
The flame of passionate hunger in their eyes;
Beseeching shade on shade--they hold me in their power.
Love, look not back, for, all too brief, our day,
In wilder glories flameth fast away.
Lo, even now, the northern snow-ridge glows--
With purple shadowed--from pale gold to rose
That shivers white beneath stars dawning cold.
Lift up thine eyes ere all the colour fades.
Ah, rainbow-plumèd Love in airs of gold,