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MIRRORS OF LIFE AND DEATH.
Benignantly hot,
Graciously radiant and keen,
Ready to rise and to run,—
Not without spot,
Not even the Sun.
Graciously radiant and keen,
Ready to rise and to run,—
Not without spot,
Not even the Sun.
As the Moon
On the wax, on the wane,
With night for her noon;
Vanishing soon,
To appear again.
On the wax, on the wane,
With night for her noon;
Vanishing soon,
To appear again.
As Roses that droop
Half warm, half chill, in the languid May,
And breathe out a scent
Sweet and faint;
Till the wind gives one swoop
To scatter their beauty away.
Half warm, half chill, in the languid May,
And breathe out a scent
Sweet and faint;
Till the wind gives one swoop
To scatter their beauty away.
As Lilies a multitude,
One dipping, one rising, one sinking,
On rippling waters, clear blue
And pure for their drinking;
One new dead, and one opened anew,
And all good.
One dipping, one rising, one sinking,
On rippling waters, clear blue
And pure for their drinking;
One new dead, and one opened anew,
And all good.
As a cankered pale Flower,
With death for a dower,
Each hour of its life half dead;
With death for a crown
With death for a dower,
Each hour of its life half dead;
With death for a crown
