University of Virginia Library

LIES

Ah, let me gaze still silent in those eyes,
Nor ask me what my soul is seeking there!
Tho' all that there is sought and found be lies,
If you and I on their false witness swear
Our love is love forever, were it wise
To test a fraud that is for both so fair?
Faith in it turns to treasures that I prize,
The faint scent breathing from your fawn-brown hair
And foam-white throat; the subtle mysteries
Of mellow shadow that have each its lair
In your lip's dimple; or the rose that dies
Along your cheek's smooth curve; and the rich air
Haunted with flutterings of entranced surprise
Round the warm edges of white vesture where
Those shy feet peep. Nor are the sorceries
Of this sweet fraud mine only. For you share
The fervid fascinations that arise
From wishes sure to wither if it were
Too soon mistrusted. Love's grand tragedies
Leave we, with all the pomps of their despair,
To souls heroic! Why should we despise
(We, whose hearts unheroically care
More for the moments than the eternities
Even the least of little joys, whate'er
Their source, that flush one minute as it flies
With radiant fervours of effulgence rare?
And if fond fancies aid them to disguise
Their fleeting earthliness in forms that wear
The hues of heaven (like wavelets, distant skies
Paint as they pass), need fretful forethought tear
From their poor wings those borrow'd pageantries?
What if some thunder-cloud soon quench the flare
Wherewith Desire's small bonfires humanise
One spot in the wide desert, whence they scare
The savage beast? No star whose beam supplies
Guidance or light, along the dark we dare
In blind pursuit of unknown destinies,
Will perish with it. Nor does Fate declare
Her will beforehand, tho' besought with sighs,
And groans, and tears, and supplicative prayer.
A miser's thrift is in each mad surmise
That starves the present for the thankless heir.
Who knows what plagues the future may devise
For those whose craft its blessings would ensnare?
Life's end may be to-night. The hour that hies
Is, while it lasts, life's all. So, if I swear
I love you, ask not what the oath implies,
But swear you love me also. We should fare
No better for the doubts that oath defies.
How sad were life, if bitter truth went bare!
And what were love itself without such lies?