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DEFEAT.
MY darling, O my darling ! with the soft sad eyes,
Set like twilight planets in the raining skies ;
With the brow all patience, and the lips all pain,
Save the curves for kisses — kiss me, love, once again.
My priestess, O my priestess ! with the almond bough
That her pale hand holdeth, dry and barren now ;
With its crown of blossoms by the rude wind rent,
With the gift God-taken that of God was sent.
Mine empress, O mine empress ! with the shattered throne,
Is there yet no kingdom we can call thine own ?
Is success the only thing the world holds good ?
Or is God as man, and could not, if He would ?
