XLVIII

Rises before me the sweet, eloquent face,
The lithe form once again is at my side,
His speech is in mine ear, the moving grace
Of his dear presence warms the morning tide
Or makes the evening lovely, — lo! he's there!
I reach my hand, — and meet the empty air.

XLIX

Nay, but that air shall stir to the rich strains
He struck upon Life's harp; silence shall break
Into such harmonies for Love's sole sake,
As when a flower after its birth-pains,
Bursts, white and odorous and full of scent,
Above the earth to bloom for man's content.

L

Bloom ever, in the world's song-garden wide,
Dear one! I'll guard thee as a gardener
Would guard the growth he loves, nor let beside
Their fairness aught unsightly lift or stir;
Winds fraught with mignonette and Orient myrrh
Shall make thy dim walks fragrant, thy retreat
A place for lovers, thy meanderings sweet.

LI

And oh, so long as love is love, and glee
Comes with the morning, and rich beauty broods
In twilight skies; so long as interludes
Of music snatch the soul from misery;
So long as souls anhunger for delight;
Arthur, thy words shall be of thrilling might.

LII

The soul goes single that hath Beauty known;
Lovers and troops of friends were thine, but they
Could not restrain thee from thy very own:
The spirit-summons from the Far-away.
The early Arthur, him of Camelot,
Brooded not straitlier on his mystic lot.

LIII

Even as Arthur of the Table Round
Followed the Gleam and fought the good fight through,
Then floated down the mere unto the sound
Of flutes that like soft wind for ever blew,
So thou didst straight embark and with a smile
Float on the bosom of the After-while.

LIV

The pure of heart are blessed; they shall be
God's chosen; he is close to them alone.
Lover of earth, now heaven hath claim on thee,
Boldly thine eyes face that refulgency
Of more than mortal keenness; for thine own
Were pure indeed; for ever safe thou art,
Because thine often-heavy human heart
Rests, circled by that promise: They shall see!