From Sunset Ridge | ||
154
AFTER HEARING COQUELIN
I paid my gold at the theatre door,
And it almost seemed a sin
To spend the alms that might bless the poor
For the pleasure I sought within.
And it almost seemed a sin
To spend the alms that might bless the poor
For the pleasure I sought within.
“And yet,” I said, “Life itself is spent
As the cost of a few delights;
So far do its years of ill content
Outnumber its joyous sights.
As the cost of a few delights;
So far do its years of ill content
Outnumber its joyous sights.
The Æthiop cast her pearl in the cup;
But I from my gold shall bring
The rainbow hues of a soul lit up
For the dark vault's conquering.
But I from my gold shall bring
The rainbow hues of a soul lit up
For the dark vault's conquering.
I gave my fee, and I had my gem;
In memory still it shines,
And Art's immortal diadem
Its varying charm enshrines.
In memory still it shines,
And Art's immortal diadem
Its varying charm enshrines.
But now my thoughts are almost sad,
And still a boon they crave,
A fitting gift for the joy I had,
Returning, as he gave.
And still a boon they crave,
A fitting gift for the joy I had,
Returning, as he gave.
From Sunset Ridge | ||