  I.—TO——Asleep within the deadest hour of night And, turning with the earth, I was aware How suddenly the eastern curve was bright, As when the sun arises from his lair. But not the sun arose: it was thy hair Shaken up heaven in tossing leagues of light. Since then I know that neither night nor day May I escape thee, O my heavenly hell! Awake, in dreams, thou springest to waylay And should I dare to die, I know full well Whose voice would mock me in the mourning bell, Whose face would greet me in hell's fiery way. II.—THE PASTHow to escape the bondage of the past? I fly thee, yet my spirit finds no calms Save when she deems her rocked within those arms To which, from which she ne'er was caught or cast. O sadness of a heart so spent in vain, That drank its age's fuel in an hour: For whom the whole world burning had not power To quick with life the smouldered wick again! III.—THE RECKONINGThe whole world burns, and with it burns my flesh. Arise, thou spirit spent by sterile tears; Thine eyes were ardent once, thy looks were fresh, Thy brow shone bright amid thy shining peers. Fame calls thee not, thou who hast vainly strayed So far for her; nor Passion, who in the past Gave thee her ghost to wed and to be paid; Nor Love, whose anguish only learned to last. Honour it is that calls: canst thou forget Once thou wert strong? Listen; the solemn call Sounds but this once again. Put by regret For summons missed, or thou hast missed them all. Body is ready, Fortune pleased; O let Not the poor Past cost the proud Future's fall. |
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