Opals (Custance)/The Spring is Here

by Olive Custance

"O! vanished loveliness of flowers and faces,
Treasure of hair, and great immortal eyes,
Are there for these no safe and secret places?
And is it true that beauty never dies?"
Richard Le Gallienne.

 

The Spring is here, but she is gone from me.
How shall I bear the bitter banishment?
I miss her eyes . . . her golden hair . . . I see
No beauty in the day, since her soul went
Alone into the strange dim lands of death. . . .

Flowers with uplifted laughing faces stand
In silent scentful clusters, birds are heard
Trilling among the leaves. . . . I lift my hand
And press it to my forehead . . . not a word
Escapes my lips . . . I struggle with my breath,
······
In dreams I meet my loved one, but a change
Has touched her semblance, she is ivory pale,
And in her great blue eyes shines something strange—
Is it the light of God?—that like a veil
Divides us when our souls touch lips in sleep . . .

I wrote a book in praise of her last year,
She holds it still. Her hair is like a flame. . . .
Her plaintive mouth pleads mutely . . . but I hear
That clear voice never . . . though I call her name
Each night, all night . . . and then I wake and weep.