JANUS

    Image of beauty, when I gaze on thee,
    Trembling I waken to a mystery,
    How through one door we go to life or death
    By spirit kindled or the sensual breath.

    Image of beauty, when my way I go;
    No single joy or sorrow do I know: 
    Elate for freedom leaps the starry power,
    The life which passes mourns its wasted hour.

    And, ah, to think how thin the veil that lies
    Between the pain of hell and paradise! 
    Where the cool grass my aching head embowers
    God sings the lovely carol of the flowers.

THE GREY EROS

    We are desert leagues apart;
    Time is misty ages now
    Since the warmth of heart to heart
    Chased the shadows from my brow.

    Oh, I am so old, meseems
    I am next of kin to Time,
    The historian of her dreams
    From the long forgotten prime.

    You have come a path of flowers. 
    What a way was mine to roam! 
    Many a fallen empire’s towers,
    Many a ruined heart my home.

    No, there is no comfort, none;
    All the dewy tender breath
    Idly falls when life is done
    On the starless brow of death.

    Though the dream of love may tire,
    In the ages long agone
    There were ruby hearts of fire—­
    Ah, the daughters of the dawn!

    Though I am so feeble now,
    I remember when our pride
    Could not to the Mighty bow;
    We would sweep His stars aside.

    Mix thy youth with thoughts like those—­
    It were but to wither thee,
    But to graft the youthful rose
    On the old and flowerless tree.

    Age is no more near than youth
    To the sceptre and the crown. 
    Vain the wisdom, vain the truth;
    Do not lay thy rapture down.

THE MEMORY OF EARTH

    In the wet dusk silver-sweet,
    Down the violet scented ways,
    As I moved with quiet feet
    I was met by mighty days.

    On the hedge the hanging dew
    Glassed the eve and stars and skies;
    While I gazed a madness grew
    Into thundered battle cries.

    Where the hawthorn glimmered white,
    Flashed the spear and fell the stroke—­
    Ah, what faces pale and bright
    Where the dazzling battle broke!

    There a hero-hearted queen
    With young beauty lit the van. 
    Gone! the darkness flowed between
    All the ancient wars of man.

    While I paced the valley’s gloom
    Where the rabbits pattered near,
    Shone a temple and a tomb
    With the legend carven clear: 

    ’Time put by a myriad fates
    That her day might dawn in glory. 
    Death made wide a million gates
    So to close her tragic story.’