University of Virginia Library

THE FUTURE

Ah now in truth how shall we, can we meet?
Or wilt thou come to me through careless eyes,
Loveliest 'mid the unlovely, in the street?
Or will thy voice be there, to harmonize
The clanging and the clamour, where beneath
The panting engines draw their burning breath?
Or shall I have to seek thee in a throng
Of noble comrades round thee?—have to pass
The low luxurious laugh, or merry song,
The pilèd golden fruit, and flashing glass?
I care not much; however it may be,
Eyes, ears and heart will compass only thee.
Yet could I choose, then surely would I fix
On that half-light, whose very name is sweet,
The gloaming, when the sun and moonbeams mix,
And light and darkness on each other rest
Like lovers' lips, uncertain, tremulous;
And the All-mother's heart is loth to beat
And break their union: then, I think, 'twere best
To find thee pacing 'neath the sprouting boughs
Of lime, alone—for so I saw thee first,
When scarce my rose's crimson life had burst
In blushes, from its calix to the sun.
Alone—throughout my love has been apart;
When seen, then misconceived so utterly,
I liken it (forgive the vanity)
To those vermilion shades since light begun
Existing, but which Turner only drew,
While pointing critics had their little say,
And all the world cried out, of course they knew
Much better than the sun, could tell the way
To colour him and his by proper rules,
And Claude was great, great, great in all the schools
As once Ephesian Dian.—Matters it
To him, or you, or me? While truth is truth,
And love is love, you'll answer—Not a whit.