 | Leaves of life |  |
98
TO DIANA.
As the moon that coldly shines though her worshippers die as they kneel,And feels but her coldness and brightness, and knows not the death that they deal,
As the sun that shines and knows not that men are parched by his heat,
As the world that whirls with its millions of hearts that bleed as they beat,
So you shine, O my sun without shadow, my moon without stain or spot,
And carry men's wrecked hearts with you, my world, and know it not!
| Leaves of life | |