By day I read
Of lovers dead
Whose deathless names
Are living flames
To feed the fire
Of man's desire.
But now that night
Has taken flight,
Within the gloom
Of my dim room
Pale lovers stand,
Hand clasped in hand.
Though in the night
Their eyes are bright,
Because ere death
Had stayed their breath
They plucked the rose
Of love, none knows
Their names, nor when
They moved with men,
Nor if their life
Knew peace or strife.
By time forgot,
Remembered not
By harp or song,
A ghostly throng
From far they come
With pale lips dumb,
And towards me turn
With eyes that yearn
And seem to say—
Brief was our day
Of grief and mirth
Upon the earth,
Yet we may live
If you will give
Us breath, and wed
Our raptures dead
To living song.
Too long, too long
Cold death doth hold
Our tale untold,
By time unheard.
Breathe you the word
That we may rise
Before men's eyes
To swell the throng
Star-crowned of song
Who move through time
To starry rhyme,
And scatter night
And put to flight
The hosts of death
With chanting breath
Till, time o'ercast,
We win at last
Love's sanctuary—