University of Virginia Library


87

THE SPELL

Now as I lean to whisper
To earth the last farewells,
The sly witch lays upon me
The subtlest of her spells:
Beauty that was not for me,
The love that was denied,
Their high disdainful sweetness
Now melted from their pride:
They run to me in vision,
All promise in their gaze,
All earth's heart-choking magic,
Madness of nights and days.
“These gifts are in my treasure,
Though fleeting be the breath;
Here only to wild giving
Is love made fire by death.
“This spell I put upon thee
Must in thy being burn,
Till from the Heavenly City
To me thou shalt return.”