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192

FATE'S EQUAL MEASURE

We need not envy fern and daisy,
Nor summer's wealth of bloom:
October's days come, dark and hazy,
And clothed about with gloom.
We need not envy summer's roses:
The bleak autumnal wind
Sweeps through the frightened shuddering closes
And leaves no flowers behind.
No lives we see are worth our longing:
Through every golden dream
The pallid morning thoughts come thronging
In one long ghostly stream.
Some seem to win one happy season:
But envy not their fate!
Sorrow and blank dismay and treason
Upon their threshold wait.

193

Are lovers happy? Not for ever
The clinging kiss shall last.
A thousand foemen wait to sever:
One rapture—then 'tis past!
The blue sea turns to storm and madness;
The still lake boils with foam:
Spent is the green-leafed summer's gladness;
Afar the red leaves roam!
So envy no man.—Happiest lovers
Have death beside their feet.
Lo! what a strange flower-raiment covers
The supple snake's retreat.
At least in this an equal measure
Fate's grim unbribed hand deals,
Bestowing pain, and stealing pleasure
From every heart that feels.