May I not carve the message of thine eyes
That long 'neath adamantine brows is hid,
Oh! mighty Sphinx that near the Pyramid,
Beneath the glamour of Egyptian skies,
The riddle of the ages still defies?
Youth is my master — Dauntless Youth would bid
Me find the answer underneath thy lid
Where Life's solved mystery unwritten lies.
Lo! as I carve, I feel Death's ruthless hand,
And I, so young, must lay my instrument
Away with all my eager, ardent faith.
May it not be that one revealing wand
Alone can point us what the secret meant, —
Interpreter of Life — Thy name is Death!