Page:Poems Tree.djvu/92

Silently we passed over the dead, the fallen,
Over flowers and branches that were withered there—
And the air was weary with the scent of other days,
A fragrance faint and pensive.
The sighing of the leaves beneath our feet
Were as old dreams retold,
Stirred from the golden quilt of memory,
And farewells rang their whispering bells,
Tolling the days away.
But peace lay folded between our hands
As we thought of the vanishing years
And of love dying in the arms of love.

V

Sometimes I look into the glass
And see my face without the conquering light
That gave me glamour when I gave thee love.
Fain would I bathe in the fountains of beauty,
To glitter with the crystals of her sparkling desire,
And touch with my feet the floors of a bright paven Hell,
And rear my head among the lilies of Heaven.
I would be for thee
As a ring of white flowers on the sward,
As a red fire playing to thy breath,
As a flock of kingfishers
Surprised from the dark fringe of rushes!
Remember only this,
My will toward all loveliness, and look
Deep in thyself for my reflected soul.

VI

Be perfect—for I love thee more in thought
Than thou canst reach in every trivial day.
Since days are as the flowers on a wreath

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