Page:Poems Holley.djvu/70

Whatever wise man thinks,
Sin forges strongest links,
 You can break them never, although for a time you may hide
Buried in flowers and wine;
This chain of thine and mine,
 At the last dread day of doom will draw us side by side.

If one, then both are cursed,
And come the best, the worst,
 Forever and ever your fate and mine are entwined;
And though it be mad—mad,
Heaven knows the thought is glad,
 I do not breed my thoughts, how can I help my mind.

So silent doth she come,
Standing here pale and dumb,
 With her finger laid on her lips in a warning way;
Her dark eyes looking back,
As if upon her track
 And mine, some phantom shape of impending evil lay.

But when I strive to see.
Of what she's warning me,
 Cruelly calm, no sign will she deign to love or fears;
Unheeding vow or prayer,
As noiseless as the air,
 She glideth into the pallid moonlight and disappears.