TO-MORROW.
Keep lovely in that painted scene
There where false water quivers bright,
There where false-fruited trees are green,
Far from the sharp dawn's dreary light,
Our dear illusion of To-night!
There where false water quivers bright,
There where false-fruited trees are green,
Far from the sharp dawn's dreary light,
Our dear illusion of To-night!
Only with lamps between we meet,
With silence in your steps you stay:
A player, seeming young and sweet,
That have to play a bitter play—
Near, yet forever far away.
With silence in your steps you stay:
A player, seeming young and sweet,
That have to play a bitter play—
Near, yet forever far away.
You, in your borrowed hair's soft gloom;
You, in your mask of white and red;
You, in mock jewels—bud and bloom,
Torn from To-day, with odours dead,
Will stain the shining stage you tread!
You, in your mask of white and red;
You, in mock jewels—bud and bloom,
Torn from To-day, with odours dead,
Will stain the shining stage you tread!
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