THE EVENING HOURS BY ÉMILE VERHAEREN AUTHOR OF "THE SUNLIT HOURS," "AFTERNOON," ETC. TRANSLATED BY CHARLES R. MURPHY NEW YORK JOHN LANE COMPANY MCMXVIII A CELLE QUI VIT A MES CÔTÉS CONTENTS I. "Tender Flowers, Light as the Sea's Foam" II. "If It Be True" III. "Dead is the Glycin and the Hawthorne Flower" IV. "Draw Your Chair to Mine" V. "Be Kind and Comforting to Us, Oh Light!" VI. "Alas, the Time of Crimson Phlox is Past" VII. "The Evening Falls, the Moon is Gold" VIII. "When You Store Away in Fragrant Shelves" IX. "Fallen is the Leafage from Above" X. "When the Star-lit Heaven Broods Above Our House" XI. "That Very Love Which Made You be for Me" XII. "Those Clear Welcoming Flowers Along the Wall's Extent" XIII. "When the Diamond Grains of Fresh Snow" XIV. "If Fate Has Saved Us from the Banal Sins" XV. "No, My Soul Has Never Tired of You!" XVI. "Ah, we are Happy Still and Proud to Live" XVII. "Alas, Must We Accept the Weight of Years" XVIII. "All Little Facts, the Things of No Account" XIX. "Come to Our Threshold Now, Oh Snow" XX. "When Our Clear Garden Lifted up Its Flow'rs" XXI. "With Withered Hands I Touch Your Brow" XXII. "Our Hearts Once Burned in Joyous Days" XXIII. "This Wrinkled Winter when the Ruined Sun" XXIV. "Perhaps" XXV. "Clasped About My Neck and Harbouring My Breast" XXVI. "When You Shall Close These Eyes of Mine to Light" THE EVENING HOURS I Tender flowers, light as the sea's foam, Graced our garden way; The lapsing wind would give your hands caress And with your hair would play. The shade was kind to our united steps That wandered soberly; And from the village a child's song arose To fill infinity. Our ponds extended in the autumn light Beneath the guarding reed, And the wood's forehead showed its mobile crown To pools upon the mead. And we, who knew our hearts were murmuring In union but one prayer, Thought that it was our peaceful life the eve Showed unveiled there. Supremely then you saw the sky aglow For a farewell caress; And long and long you looked on it with eyes Filled with mute tenderness. II If it be true That garden flower or meadow tree May hold still any memory Of lovers past who once looked on Their splendour or their purity, So shall our love return once more In that long hour of long regret To give the rose, or in the oak restore, Its sweetness or its strength, Ere death come yet. Thus shall it survive unconquered Within the glory that belongs to simple things, And find a joy again, in light that cleaves The sky on summer break of day, And find a joy again In the sweet rain That dwells in drops on hanging leaves.