XIII
Lola, dear Lola, how the stillness grows!
How drosy is the world, that folds her wings
Over us, folding like a sunset rose
Her crimson raptures to the night of things!
How all the voices and the visions fail
As we pass through into the silent hall
Beyond the vapours and beyond the veil,
Beyond the Nothing as beyond the All!
Ah! then, our voice must also fail in this;
Our symbols are but shadows in the sun;
Love's self springs from the shadow of the kiss;
Our bliss! O, that was hardly half begun!
We fight the Fate as we have fought the foemen.
The poison takes us.—Χαίρετε νικῶμεν.
How drosy is the world, that folds her wings
Over us, folding like a sunset rose
Her crimson raptures to the night of things!
How all the voices and the visions fail
As we pass through into the silent hall
Beyond the vapours and beyond the veil,
Beyond the Nothing as beyond the All!
Ah! then, our voice must also fail in this;
Our symbols are but shadows in the sun;
Love's self springs from the shadow of the kiss;
Our bliss! O, that was hardly half begun!
We fight the Fate as we have fought the foemen.
The poison takes us.—Χαίρετε νικῶμεν.
— 129 —9
