Lyrics
31
Oh, the desperate dumb clinging
Of the unbelieving hands!
Oh, the nerves grown dull with flinging
Up the mind's o'er-written sands
All the fleetingness of wonder,
All the moment's cresting foam,
That withdrawing leaves thereunder
Vanishing, dim legends where it clomb.
Unforgotten, unremembered
Shall thy beauty haunt the brain
Like old magic cities embered
Where the golden sunsets wane;—
Ah, my love let be to-morrow!
All to-morrow is is now,
All we'd lose and all we'd borrow;—
Laugh, and prove all time more brief than thou.
