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- THE HOUR
COME let us take this hour and hold it up
While our stars shine,
Leaving our joy untouched, as in a cup
Of unspilt wine;
Then, though the deluge break and we be driven
Into the grave,
Like gods unto the gods we shall have given
The gift they gave.
- OBSEQUIES
INCH by inch — for it takes some time, this thing —
You have killed my love;
Till at last a look, a gesture, an anything
Did fatal prove.
And now, ah now, how desperately you cling
To its dead bier.
As tho' thro' your calm breast passed the same sting
That laid it here!
