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