THE SON OF MELANCHOLY
UNTO blest Melancholy's house one happy day
I took my way:
Into a chamber was shown, whence could be seen
Her flowerless garden, dyed with sunlit green
Of myrtle, box, and bay.
Cool were its walls, shade-mottled, green and gold
In heavy fold
Hung antique tapestries, from whose fruit and flower
Light had the bright hues stolen, hour by hour,
And time worn thin and old.
Silence, as of a virginal laid aside.
Did there abide.
But not for voice or music was I fain,
Only to see a long-loved face again—
For her sole company sighed.
And while I waited, giving memory praise,
My musing gaze
Lit on the one sole picture in the room,
Which hung, as if in hiding, in the gloom
From evening's stealing rays.
57
