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THE DEAD BOOK.
"Your throne is shaken, sire—
Your palace lost in fire;
Your prince must hide with sand the far tracks of his feet!"
Your palace lost in fire;
Your prince must hide with sand the far tracks of his feet!"
Shut close your Letter, child.
The wind is weird and wild—
I give it to the wind to bury in the sea,
Full fathom five, and pray
That till the Judgment Day
No fisherman may bring such treasure up to me!
The wind is weird and wild—
I give it to the wind to bury in the sea,
Full fathom five, and pray
That till the Judgment Day
No fisherman may bring such treasure up to me!
THE DEAD BOOK.
Ah, from the yellow pages Time has torn
The wonder-pictures seen by clearer eyes,
And from the withered words the soul is worn!
. . . Kiss the Dead Book, and leave it where it lies.
The wonder-pictures seen by clearer eyes,
And from the withered words the soul is worn!
. . . Kiss the Dead Book, and leave it where it lies.
Kiss the Dead Book, and leave it in its place———
Youth's breathless bloom and dusty dreams among.
I read, where shining poems show no grace,
This dreary line, "You are no longer young."
Youth's breathless bloom and dusty dreams among.
I read, where shining poems show no grace,
This dreary line, "You are no longer young."
