As a legend written in snow.

But always his innocent eyes
Were frozen into the stone.
From that awful first surprise
His soul must return alone.

In the morning there he lay
Dead in the sun's warm gold.
And no man knows to this day
What the dim moondial told.

[Illustration]

_The Face in the Stream_

The sunburnt face in the willow shade
To the face in the water-mirror said,

"O deep mysterious face in the stream,
Art thou myself or am I thy dream?"

And the face deep down in the water's side
To the face in the upper air replied,

"I am thy dream, them poor worn face,
And this is thy heart's abiding place.

"Too much in the world, come back and be
Once more my dream-fellow with me,

"In the far-off untarnished years
Before thy furrows were washed with tears,

"Or ever thy serious creature eyes
Were aged with a mist of memories.

"Hast thou forgotten the long ago
In the garden where I used to flow,

"Among the hills, with the maple tree
And the roses blowing over me?--

"I who am now but a wraith of this river,
Forsaken of thee forever and ever,

"Who then was thine image fair, forecast
In the heart of the water rimpling past.

"Out in the wide of the summer zone
I lulled and allured thee apart and alone,

"The azure gleam and the golden croon
And the grass with the flaky roses strewn.

"There you would lie and lean above me,
The more you lingered the more to love me,

"Till I became, as the year grew old,
Thy fairest day-dream's fashion and mould,

"Deep in the water twilight there,
Smiling, elusive, wonderful, fair,

"The beautiful visage of thy clear soul
Set in eternity's limpid shoal,

"Thy spirit's countenance, the trace
Of dawning God in the human face.

"And when yellow leaves came down
Through the silent mornings one by one

"To the frosty meadow, as they fell
Thy pondering heart said, 'All is well;

"'Aye, all is best, for I stake my life
Beyond the boundaries of strife,'

"And then thy feet returned no more,--
While years went over the garden floor,

"With frost and maple, with rose and dew,
In the world thy river wandered through;--

"Came never again to revive and recall
Thy youth from its water burial.

"But now thy face is battle-dark;
The strife of the world has graven a mark

"About the lips that are no more mine,
Too sweet to forget, too strong to repine.

"With the ends of the earth for thy garden now,
What solace and what reward hast