 | Homeward songs by the way |  |
44
Epitaph
WHERE is the priestess of this shrine,
And by what place does she adore?
The woodland haunt below the pine
Now hears her whisper evermore.
And by what place does she adore?
The woodland haunt below the pine
Now hears her whisper evermore.
Ah, wrapped in her own beauty now,
She dreams a dream that shall not cease:
Priestess—to her own soul to bow
Is hers, in everlasting peace.
She dreams a dream that shall not cease:
Priestess—to her own soul to bow
Is hers, in everlasting peace.
59
Divided
IN childhood's days we were not apart:
One spirit breathed in your heart and my heart.
It flowed through us in our childhood's days
As hosts that march through the broad highways.
One spirit breathed in your heart and my heart.
It flowed through us in our childhood's days
As hosts that march through the broad highways.
The ancient magic is over and dead,
For love awoke and the voices fled:
We know no more of the superhuman:
I am a man and you are a woman.
For love awoke and the voices fled:
We know no more of the superhuman:
I am a man and you are a woman.
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