GREY dawn—and lucent star that slowly paled
Beyond the breaking splendour of the years,
When boyhood’s heart looked up to heaven, through tears
Of joy, to see the glory of God unveiled:
High noon—and bridal earth, whose footsteps failed
For very love—when passionate hopes and fears
Dazzled the flowers, made music in the ears,
And through the trancéd wood their splendour trailed.
Calm eventide—afar the lonely west
Dreams of the wondrous day, and dreaming, lies
With folded hands, still lips, and weary eyes
Searching the shadows of eternal rest:
Childhood, and youth, and age—for each a prize,
Faith—Love—and Death—I know not which is best.