Be not sad because all men
Prefer a lying clamour before you:
Sweetheart, be at peace again -- -
Can they dishonour you?
All day I hear the noise of waters
Sad as the sea-bird is when, going
Of the dark past
A child is born;
With joy and grief
My heart is torn.
The noon's greygolden meshes make
All night a veil,
The shorelamps in the sleeping lake
Laburnum tendrils trail.
Because your voice was at my side
I gave him pain,
Because within my hand I held
Your hand again.
My dove, my beautiful one,
The night-dew lies
Upon my lips and eyes.
Frail the white rose and frail are
Her hands that gave
Whose soul is sere and paler
Than time's wan wave.
I hear an army charging upon the land,
And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:
Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand,
Disdaining the reins, with fluttering whips, the charioteers.
Goldbrown upon the sated flood
The rockvine clusters lift and sway;
Vast wings above the lambent waters brood
Of sullen day.