For peace I builded on your peace,
And on your weakness mine up-piled;
Of too fond hope I made increase,
And at your smilings, as a child,
Ignorant of their cost, I smiled.
Always I fear at sight of fears,
And always weep at weeping eyes;
O my Beloved, take my tears,
Take my sighs!
And these, and these, alas! shall be
Sorrow, and superfluity.
_WRAITH_
Mine was not equal of her trust--
As whose, my friend, as whose should be?-And
now, a panic dream of dust,
She comes to haunt the heart of me;
She comes to haunt my heart for this,
And lo, a glory of my sighs!
For still her phantom lips I kiss,
Who cannot meet her phantom eyes.
_A DEDICATION_
I took the universe for theme,
And all young eyes, and all old stars;
A thousand angels of my dream
I sang, and a thousand of love's wars.
Blind then my eyes, that now can see
The narrowness of infinity!
For these my songs sing but her eyes,
And all my song one star apart,
One angel's dream-soliloquies,
One conquered, one triumphant, heart.
Yea, one is all, and all is one;
My songs, O love, are sung, and I have done.
* * * * *
_By_ The Hon. Mrs. Lindsay
THE HERMIT OF DREAMS.
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