Poems (Hardy)/Life and death

by Irenè Hardy

For works with similar titles, see Life and death.

LIFE AND DEATH

TWO angels, clad in untouched white,
Met, once, upon a highway near the sea.
One wore a smile of summer light;
The other's look was that the midnight has
When stars crowd close the solemn sky—
Tender, sweet, convincing.

This, a golden goblet, shining to the brim
With living water, pure and clear;
And he, that other, held a chalice
Dim and deep and empty,
Save for one half-clinging drop.
"Whither goest, angel?" said the smiling one,
While yet they stood, in doubt, apart.
"To yonder palace, brother sweet,
Unto the queen. And whither thou?"
"Unto the prince, her son, that is to be."

"If must be, hand in hand we go,"
Said Life, and bowed his shining head;
"It must be, brother, but I follow thee,
And, lingering by the door, I wait
Till thine own errand is fulfilled."

So Life went in; and Death awaited there,
Then, closely following, stood beside the queen.
The other pressed him back,—"Too late!" he cried,
"It is too late! she knew not what she did,
And snatched my goblet, drinking half."

"Yet would she rather, had 'she known,
Have taken mine, mused Death.
"Ay, or no, I cannot tell," said Life;
"For may the prince be better served
With half, than all the lotted years,
And may the world be better served
With half a life this mother guides—"
"Ay, or no, we cannot tell," mused Death.

Then, hand in hand, they left the hall,
And Sleep, soft trailing through the chamber-door,
Stooped low above the mother queen,
And lapped the infant prince in dreams.