Opals (Custance)/The Spring is Here
"O! vanished loveliness of flowers and faces,Treasure of hair, and great immortal eyes,Are there for these no safe and secret places?And is it true that beauty never dies?"Richard Le Gallienne.
The Spring is here, but she is gone from me.How shall I bear the bitter banishment?I miss her eyes . . . her golden hair . . . I seeNo beauty in the day, since her soul wentAlone into the strange dim lands of death. . . .
Flowers with uplifted laughing faces standIn silent scentful clusters, birds are heardTrilling among the leaves. . . . I lift my handAnd press it to my forehead . . . not a wordEscapes my lips . . . I struggle with my breath,······ In dreams I meet my loved one, but a changeHas touched her semblance, she is ivory pale,And in her great blue eyes shines something strange—Is it the light of God?—that like a veilDivides us when our souls touch lips in sleep . . .
I wrote a book in praise of her last year,She holds it still. Her hair is like a flame. . . .Her plaintive mouth pleads mutely . . . but I hearThat clear voice never . . . though I call her nameEach night, all night . . . and then I wake and weep.