"Why," you ask me, dearest, "why Did we leave that place-- Is it such a thing to die?" Ponder for a space: What if love must lose to gain, Find eternal peace in pain? "But I want the Ever-Now!" Dear, do you not know They who drive the patient plough And the furrows sow, Own the sinews of the strong-- Reap the harvest with a song? "Let the scattered fragments be Gathered from the feast, Nothing lost"; thus speaketh He Who is Love's High Priest, And He knows who from a cross Pledged return for every loss. Thus, my Maid of long ago, Here within the field Let me tell what you would know: How I came to yield To your eyes, your lips, your hair, When the guests were gathered there In the room that day we met, Found amid the talk Light of ancient suns which set Æons ere the chalk Cliffs of Dover gleamed upon Merchant-prows from Babylon. Love and Life eternal are, Fill unfathomed space, Bind with rapture star to star, Gleam from every face, Soar with angels, plunge to hell: Lucifer and Israfel! So above the choric spheres, At the knees of God You and I beyond the years Kissed, then clove the clod With our spirit's sundered flame; Till amid the talk your name Fell seraphic, smote me through With unearthly pain: I was I and you were you-- Met on earth again, Bound to live and bound to love By that oath we made above! AFTER THE FEAST I have drunk deeply of the cup, Fared well and fed; The guests with whom I sat to sup, Are gone to bed: A broken harp lies on the floor, Its tangled strings will sound no more-- The wine-stained linen I deplore. Here is a little trampled rose, A violet; Here is a hyacinth, and those Are mignonette: They looked so proudly from their place, First at the feast--with tears I trace Now but a vestige of that grace. Upon the table is a crown-- Where is the King? The little leaves that tremble down, Cover a ring; A vase of crystal shattered lies Against a goblet, where the wise Talked through the laughter. How time flies! It is not very long ago, Here in the hall, When to the tapers' tangled glow The rise and fall Of voices over nuts and wine Murmured like wind through leaf and vine; And there was joy of me and mine. I snuff the tapers one by one. The darkness falls. Alas, for feasting and for fun! My madrigals Are ended. I will not again Sing. Sound of wind and weeping rain Is now the interlude of pain! Yet it was good to know the feast, To be a guest; Though at the table I was least Among the best. Blindly I grope unto the door, Gather a flower from the floor-- I will come back here never more! What! Never more go gladly back? Ah, foolish me! When down the winding starry track The company, With laughter their lord following, Shall yet return to greet the King Who claims the crown and wears the ring!