"But once before the sand is run and the silver thread is broken, Give me a grace and cast aside the veil of dolorous years, Grant me one hour of all mine hours, and let me see for a token Her pure and pitiful eyes shine out, and bathe her feet with tears." Her pitiful hands should calm, and her hair stream down and blind me, Out of the sight of night, and out of the reach of fear, And her eyes should be my light whilst the sun went out behind me, And the viols in her voice be the last sound in mine ear. Before the ruining waters fall and my life be carried under, And Thine anger cleave me through as a child cuts down a flower, I will praise Thee, Lord in Hell, while my limbs are racked asunder, For the last sad sight of her face and the little grace of an hour. A VALEDICTION If we must part, Then let it be like this; Not heart on heart, Nor with the useless anguish of a kiss; But touch mine hand and say: "_Until to-morrow or some other day, If we must part._" Words are so weak When love hath been so strong: Let silence speak: "_Life is a little while, and love is long; A time to sow and reap, And after harvest a long time to sleep. But words are weak._" SAPIENTIA LUNAE The wisdom of the world said unto me: "_Go forth and run, the race is to the brave; Perchance some honour tarrieth for thee!_" "As tarrieth," I said, "for sure, the grave." For I had pondered on a rune of roses, Which to her votaries the moon discloses. The wisdom of the world said: "_There are bays: Go forth and run, for victory is good, After the stress of the laborious days._" "Yet," said I, "shall I be the worms' sweet food," As I went musing on a rune of roses, Which in her hour, the pale, soft moon discloses. Then said my voices: "_Wherefore strive or run, On dusty highways ever, a vain race? The long night cometh, starless, void of sun, What light shall serve thee like her golden face?_" For I had pondered on a rune of roses, And knew some secrets which the moon discloses. "Yea," said I, "for her eyes are pure and sweet As lilies, and the fragrance of her hair Is many laurels; and it is not meet To run for shadows when the prize is here"; And I went reading in that rune of roses Which to her votaries the moon discloses. _Dum nos fata sinunt, oculos satiemus Amore._--PROPERTIUS Cease smiling, Dear! a little while be sad, Here in the silence, under the wan moon; Sweet are thine eyes, but how can I be glad, Knowing they change so soon? For Love's sake, Dear, be silent! Cover me In the deep darkness of thy falling hair: Fear is upon me and the memory Of what is all men's share. O could this moment be perpetuate! Must we grow old, and leaden-eyed and gray, And taste no more the wild and passionate Love sorrows of to-day?