Brother and Master, if our love could free Thy flameborne spirit from its leaden chain, Thou shouldst rise up from this sad house of pain, Be young and fair as thou wast wont to be, And strong with joy as is the boundless sea. Brother and Master, at thy feet we lay These roses, red as lips that thou hast sung, To mingle with the green and fragrant bay, And cypress wreaths above thy head are hung. We kneel awhile, then turn in tears away. THE POET’S EPITAPH Dreams fade with morning light; Never a morn for thee, Dreamer of dreams, good-night. Over our earthly sight Shadows of woe must be; Dreams fade with morning light. Soldiers awake to fight-- Thou art from strife set free, Dreamer of dreams, good-night. Day breaketh, cruel, white, Lovely the forms that flee; Dreams fade with morning light. Thine is the sure delight, Sleep-visions still to see, Dreamer of dreams, good-night. Pity us from thy height, Dawn-haunted slaves are we; Dreams fade with morning light, Dreamer of dreams, good-night. BEAUTY’S HAIR A gleam of light across the night, I know that you are there; The heavens show the lovely glow Of your transcendent hair, Your luminous, miraculous, and morning-coloured hair. I’ll take my silver javelin And point it with a star, For I have vowed to climb a cloud And reach to where you are. My javelin’s barb shall pierce your hair And pin it to the sky, And I will run to the island sun Where captive you will lie, And then I shall dare to touch your hair, To steal a tress of your magic hair, And bring to the world a tress of hair And win the world thereby. Or shall I put on a green-sea cloak With sunset laces trimmed, And shine so gay that the dawn will say That her radiance is dimmed? There never was a lover could shine more fair Than I in my cloak will shine; And all for the sake of your merry hair, Your whimsical, perilous, golden hair, Your lovely, terrible, golden hair, More sweet than love or wine. A twisted bit of silver Fell down and bruised my face. What was it broke my broidered cloak And tore the sunset lace? I must be clad in sorrow Because you are so gay, And close my eyes if I would see A whiter light than day. So lofty is your golden hair, I cannot climb to touch your hair, I must kneel down to find your hair Upon the trampled way. THE WAY OF LOVE (An Old Legend) When darkness hovers over earth And day gives place to night, Then lovers see the Milky Way Gleam mystically bright, And calling it the Way of Love They hail it with delight. She was a lady wondrous fair, A right brave lover he, And sooth they suffered grievous pain And sorrowed mightily, For they were parted during life By leagues of land and sea.