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Three Studies for a Portrait
69
2
THE GRAY MASK
I wish I could not see her heart
That is so passionate, so young,
For all love-words are said for her,
All love-songs sung:
That is so passionate, so young,
For all love-words are said for her,
All love-songs sung:
Over light griefs her eyes grow wet,
Over gay silks her eyes grow gay,
She sighs, half-hopeful . . . "I forget
My hair is gray—"
Over gay silks her eyes grow gay,
She sighs, half-hopeful . . . "I forget
My hair is gray—"
"I dreamed a lover came for me
And courted me," she tells, "last night . . ."
Ah, kind dream-lover, who could find
Such tired eyes bright!
And courted me," she tells, "last night . . ."
Ah, kind dream-lover, who could find
Such tired eyes bright!
And yet . . . Perhaps some lad in heaven
Some day shall clasp her soul, and know
Unchanged, the little lass he left
So long ago.
Some day shall clasp her soul, and know
Unchanged, the little lass he left
So long ago.
3
THE SEEKER
She was so full of restlessness,
So ceaselessly went to and fro
That it was hard for us to guess
What thing she wished to find or know:
So ceaselessly went to and fro
That it was hard for us to guess
What thing she wished to find or know:
