RENUNCIATION.
85
And no man guideth the hail and the rain,The snow, and the harvest time.
And the tides flow on, and the birds,Bring out their young in their nests,And no man watcheth the royal growth,Of the lily's loveliness.
But Love is a plant that thrives,On sorrow, and beauty, and pain,And Truth is a phantom that flits,Through the mazes of the brain.
Love, ah! he loves not me,And there was not a shadow of truth,In the vow he sware to me,That he reverenced beauty and youth.
For her face with its great black eyes,And its hollow circles of pain,And the faded beauty that she holds,Belie the story again.
Once she was sweet and fair,Now she is faded and worn,And he to come with the face of a liar,And swear he loved me alone.
Love, not I, neither scorn nor hate,But the longing pain and desire,
