Alone, alas, alone! you have loved and lived it,

Pour no blood on the ashes, for blood can not turn into dew.

[40]

[40]

34

It is the same twilight, dear,

The hour of love and tear

When in raiments of shadows

Fancies, fears, hopes, and sorrows

Tread the path of sunset,

While like barks of jet

Float the clouds from east to west.

I think of thee, my darling,

As in my heart strange chords ring

Out melodies of many memories,

And half-forgotten reveries

Telling of this or that scene,

That is and has been

Trod by thee, Queen of queens.

My dreams of thee are ceaseless,

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