 | In the Dorian Mood |  |
53
MAY 22, 1885
Sped is our Titan? Nay, defer
The thought of death for such a man!
I know he plays at grandfather
As in the old days with Georges and Jeanne:
The thought of death for such a man!
I know he plays at grandfather
As in the old days with Georges and Jeanne:
I know the bowed and glorious head
To-day is silvern in the sun:
Some witty word is being said,
Some trancing tale is being spun.
To-day is silvern in the sun:
Some witty word is being said,
Some trancing tale is being spun.
Mark the young faces round his chair,
Hark, eager voices echoing!
He is so dear and debonnaire,
Of gray-beards let us crown him king!
Hark, eager voices echoing!
He is so dear and debonnaire,
Of gray-beards let us crown him king!
54
Ah me, defer it as we may,
Defer Death's terror as we will,
Our Victor cannot win to-day—
Death is your only conqueror still.
Defer Death's terror as we will,
Our Victor cannot win to-day—
Death is your only conqueror still.
And now tired eyelids droop in sleep,
And the familiar days are sped,
We weep not our old friend; we weep
In a great darkness the great dead.
And the familiar days are sped,
We weep not our old friend; we weep
In a great darkness the great dead.
And we forget the children's ways,
The laughing boast, the daily tryst,
For he doth pass through heaven's full blaze
With Alighieri unto Christ.
The laughing boast, the daily tryst,
For he doth pass through heaven's full blaze
With Alighieri unto Christ.
| In the Dorian Mood | |