as fire So burn the hours of joy as swift away!

 

 

 

 

"I am Weary, let me Sleep"

I am weary, let me sleep In some great embroidered bed, With soft pillows for my head. I am weary, let me sleep . . . Petals of sweet roses shed All around a perfumed heap White as pearls, and ruby red; Curtains closely drawn to keep Wings of darkness o'er me spread . . . I am weary, let me sleep In some great embroidered bed. Let me dream that I am dead, Nevermore to wake and weep In the future that I dread . . . For the ways of life are steep . . . I am weary, let me sleep . . .

 

 

 

 

Grief

I, that was once so eager for the light, The vehement pomp and passion of the day, Am tired at last, and glad to steal away Across the dusky borders of the night. The purple darkness now is my delight, And with great stars my lonely sorrows play, As still, some proud and tragic princess may With diamonds make her desolation bright.

Night has become a temple for my tears . . . The moon a silver shroud for my despair, And all the golden forests of the spheres Have showered their splendours on me leaf by leaf Till men that meet me in the sunlight, stare To see the shining garment of my grief!

 

 

 

 

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