Page:Mandragora.djvu/122

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FIRST AND LAST


DAWN broke over us cool and sweet
  So long ago!
The great gods walking in the dew
   Made a path for our feet;
Gave roses to me and lilies to you,
And with reeds of the river rare music blew
   And made a path for our feet.

But the hours that came with the growing light
   Drooped as if they were years,
And in faint flute-music from far away,
   The gods, departing, turned to say,
"Nothing can heal the heat of the day
   Save night with its rain of tears."

The wind may carry the roses away,
   But the human heart can only pray;
Pray to the gods thro' the weary years
   For night — for night with its rain of tears.