The life which passes mourns its wasted hour.

And, ah, to think how thin the veil that lies

Between the pain of hell and paradise!

Where the cool grass my aching head embowers

God sings the lovely carol of the flowers.

 [24] 

[24]

THE GREY EROS

We are desert leagues apart;

Time is misty ages now

Since the warmth of heart to heart

Chased the shadows from my brow.

Oh, I am so old, meseems

I am next of kin to Time,

The historian of her dreams

From the long forgotten prime.

You have come a path of flowers.

What a way was mine to roam!

Many a fallen empire's towers,

Many a ruined heart my home.

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