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III
THE soul that made love exquisite is gone,
It is not that the word, the kiss, is changed.
I cannot say, "Here was his thought withdrawn;
So once was love, so now is love estranged."
It is not that the word, the kiss, is changed.
I cannot say, "Here was his thought withdrawn;
So once was love, so now is love estranged."
But all of love that I could touch and know
I held as one a lamp that makes his day,
And much it still, and see its flame burn low,
Its shining figures fade to painted clay.
I held as one a lamp that makes his day,
And much it still, and see its flame burn low,
Its shining figures fade to painted clay.
Ah, I would hold the semblance, keep the kiss;
But watching in its heart the paling spark,
I cry out when the shadows menace this,
As children weep for terror of the dark.
But watching in its heart the paling spark,
I cry out when the shadows menace this,
As children weep for terror of the dark.
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