Holy of holies Confessions of an anarchist [by J. E. Barlas] |
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 | Holy of holies |  |
25
XXI.
[Lost love remembered makes the world a dream]
Lost love remembered makes the world a dream,And life is grown the shadow of a shade
Since first with ripples on Love's shore I played
Nor waded deep into his stormier stream.
Swift passeth pleasure as the stray moon-beam,
But it strikes like the lightning. Sore afraid,
I see the blackened ruin round me laid
Of my fair sheltered vine, dead as I deem.
Love like a flowering tree hath shed its bloom
Before the almonds filled: Love like a vision
Just at its sweetest hath dissolved away.
Love is a flower whose root is in a tomb,
Love is a frail cloud steeped in Heaven's Elysian.
It breaks, and shadowy rain dims all the day.
Dec. 28th, 1885.
| Holy of holies | |