Forever shall you be your best,-- Nay, far more luminously shine Than when our comradeship was blessed By what on earth seemed most divine, Before your body passed to rest With what I then supposed this heart of mine.
Now shall your bud of beauty blow Far lovelier than I knew before When, such a little time ago, I looked upon your face, and swore That Helen's never moved men so When her white, magic hands enkindled war.
As you sweep on from power to power Shall every earthward thought you think Irradiate my lonely hour Till I shall taste the golden drink Of Life, and see the full-blown flower, Whose opening bud was mine, beyond the brink.
Here in this ancient garden When Winter days had flown I came, with Comrade Sorrow To dwell with her alone.
Here in this sweet seclusion Far from the World's cold stare What exquisite communings Sorrow and I would share!
What banquets of remembrance! What luxury of tears! With Sorrow in a garden Through the rose-scented years!
But one day when she called me I did not hear her voice; I only heard the lilies Which sang "Rejoice, rejoice!"
The world was gold and azure The air was sweet with birds; My garden laughed with rapture How could I hear her words?
For June was in the garden And June was in my heart, And since that hour pale Sorrow And I have dwelt apart.
But often in the twilight When birds and gardens sleep I feel her presence with me Her arms about me creep.
And when the ghosts of Summer With the dead roses talk, I hear her softly sobbing Along the moonlit walk.
I never can forget her So intimate were we! But Sorrow, in my garden Abides no more with me.
The pale moth Trembles in the white moonlight; Thus my heart trembles with love!
The rose petals fall-- The red petals of my heart; Oh, the breath of love!
Cool, sweet tears Of honey, the jasmine weeps; Burning fall the tears of love.
Oh, how bitter Is the White Poppy, Death; There are no more dreams of love.
I lift my heart as spring lifts up A yellow daisy to the rain; My heart will be a lovely cup Altho' it holds but pain.
For I shall learn from flower and leaf That color every drop they hold, To change the lifeless wine of grief To living gold.
Late in the evening, when the room had grown Too hot and tiresome with its flaring light And noisy voices, I stole out alone Into the darkness of the summer night.