CELESTINE.
I.
I must not look on you nor think of you,—
Must seek close kinship with forgetfulness;
Such looks as thine but make a strong man rue
That ever in his heart’s devout excess
The shadow of thy soul he did pursue
Through many a golden hour for one caress;
’Twas but a noontide dream,
A phantom fire, a gleam
Of heaven wasted in a wilderness.
II.
I wake and wonder at the vision gone,
Sweet music borne upon a winter blast,
A beauty filched from sunset and the dawn,
A marvel too ethereal to last;
And now a heavy sadness falls upon
My spirit and the world, both overcast
With thunderstorm and gloom,
In which there is no room
For any ray of the enchanted past.
III.
I chide the fond delirium of my brow,
And only pray that you forgive, forget
The homage of a man who doth avow
His folly with a penitent’s regret;
Such adoration even the gods allow,
For thou art as a star divinely set
In heaven’s perfect blue,
I can but sigh for you
In lonely ways with night dews chilled and wet.