s a pensive tune
Drops its surrendered sweetness note by note;--
And from her hands the buds of hope are strewn,
Moon-flowers, mothered of the barren moon.

So in her flowers man seats him at her feet
In star-faced worship, knowing all of this;
And now to him to die seems very sweet,
Fed with the fire of her look and kiss;
While in his heart the blood's tumultuous beat
Drowns, in her own, the drowsing serpent's hiss.

He who hath dreamed but of her world shall give
All of his soul unto her restlessly:
He who hath seen but her far face shall live
No more for things we name reality:
Such is the power of her tyranny.

He, whom she wins, hath nothing 'neath the sun;
Forgetting all that she may not forget
He loves her, who still feeds his soul upon
Dreams and desires, and doubt and vain regret,--
Life's bitter bread his heart's fierce tears make wet.

What word of wisdom hast thou, Life, to wake
Him now! or song of magic now to dull
The dreams he lives in! or what charm to break
The spell that makes her evil beautiful!
What charm to show her beauty hides a snake,
Whose basilisk eyes burn dark behind a skull.

REMEMBERED

Here in the dusk I see her face again
As then I knew it, ere she fell asleep;
Renunciation glorifying pain
Of her soul's inmost deep.

I shall not see its like again! the brow
Of passive marble, purely aureoled,--
As some pale lily in the afterglow,--
With supernatural gold.

As if a rose should speak and, somehow heard
By some strange sense, the unembodied sound
Grow visible, her mouth was as a word
A sweet thought falters 'round.

So do I still remember eyes imbued
With far reflections--as the stars suggest
The silence, purity and solitude
Of infinite peace and rest.

She was my all. I loved her as men love
A high desire, religion, an ideal--
The meaning purpose in the loss whereof
God shall alone reveal.

THE SEA SPIRIT

Ah me! I shall not waken soon
From dreams of such divinity!
A spirit singing in the moon
To me.

White sea-spray driven of the storm
Were not so wildly white as she!
She beckoned with a foam-white arm
To me.

With eyes dark green, and golden-green
Loose locks that sparkled drippingly,
Out of the green wave she did lean
To me.

And sang; till Earth and Heaven were
A far, forgotten memory;
For more than Heaven seemed hid in her
To me:--