We call it love and pain The passion of her strain; And yet we little understand or know: Why should it not be rather joy that so Throbs in each throbbing vein? 40 In separate herds the deer Lie; here the bucks, and here The does, and by its mother sleeps the fawn: Through all the hours of night until the dawn They sleep, forgetting fear. The hare sleeps where it lies, With wary half-closed eyes; The cock has ceased to crow, the hen to cluck: Only the fox is out, some heedless duck Or chicken to surprise. 50 Remote, each single star Comes out, till there they are All shining brightly: how the dews fall damp! While close at hand the glow-worm lights her lamp Or twinkles from afar. But evening now is done As much as if the sun Day-giving had arisen in the East: For night has come; and the great calm has ceased, The quiet sands have run. 60 WIFE TO HUSBAND Pardon the faults in me, For the love of years ago: Good-bye. I must drift across the sea, I must sink into the snow, I must die. You can bask in this sun, You can drink wine, and eat: Good-bye. I must gird myself and run, 10 Though with unready feet: I must die. Blank sea to sail upon, Cold bed to sleep in: Good-bye. While you clasp, I must be gone For all your weeping: I must die. A kiss for one friend, And a word for two,-- 20 Good-bye:-- A lock that you must send, A kindness you must do: I must die. Not a word for you, Not a lock or kiss, Good-bye. We, one, must part in two; Verily death is this: I must die. 30 THREE SEASONS 'A cup for hope!' she said, In springtime ere the bloom was old: The crimson wine was poor and cold By her mouth's richer red. 'A cup for love!' how low, How soft the words; and all the while Her blush was rippling with a smile Like summer after snow. 'A cup for memory!' Cold cup that one must drain alone: 10 While autumn winds are up and moan Across the barren sea. Hope, memory, love: Hope for fair morn, and love for day, And memory for the evening grey And solitary dove. MIRAGE The hope I dreamed of was a dream, Was but a dream; and now I wake, Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old, For a dream's sake. I hang my harp upon a tree, A weeping willow in a lake; I hang my silent harp there, wrung and snapt For a dream's sake. Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart; My silent heart, lie still and break: 10 Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed For a dream's sake. SHUT OUT