Elizabethan days . VALENTINE HOEVER tries to win must lose, Even the thought is heresy to Fate;Ours is the right to love and not to choose—Those who hope are barred without the gate. To-day is all—especially if it broughtSomeone into our life—who fills a place Deeper and dearer than we ever thought—Make best of it, as evidence of grace! If we still wish—and try to seize the powerThat joins and severs, gives and takes We rank ourselves as gods—an awful hourOf retribution our presumption makes. But if we go on our way and fain implore—The Lord of Fate will smile upon our path If it is best he sh
Elizabethan days . VALENTINE HOEVER tries to win must lose, Even the thought is heresy to Fate;Ours is the right to love and not to choose—Those who hope are barred without the gate. To-day is all—especially if it broughtSomeone into our life—who fills a place Deeper and dearer than we ever thought—Make best of it, as evidence of grace! If we still wish—and try to seize the powerThat joins and severs, gives and takes We rank ourselves as gods—an awful hourOf retribution our presumption makes. But if we go on our way and fain implore—The Lord of Fate will smile upon our path If it is best he should—why ask for more?—Ingratitude deserves the divine wrath. *J« #|i JfC rj* JfJ Jj£ 3j* Therefore I dare not hope that youll be mine,But simply be my Valentine! 47. IN INTROSPECT ENEATH the reflex of the yellow sky (Which smiles upon the earth,)Marshaling forebodings which will come In days deserted, days of dearth,When joy to Nowhere has departed And left a little fear in place of mirth. The nights of those days will be haunted By a reality (not a dream)Which will cast, unaccountable, Its shadow cross some pale moonbeam,Then sink to earth, as if disheartened, Shimmering reluctant on each stagnant stream. ito iviuvi/uiii; V v^c*v/x± .juc^j The unsettled ones of this world (Which is the unseen world of Now) Beholding this speechless rede its silence, all will vow, And follow in its wake, unguided,Like unto a ship without a prow. Towards the end some earth enchantersPossessed of reasonability (braves) Will cry to this moonbeam obscurer,And ask it what it craves, But it shall answer not, And they—return to their graves. 48
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidelizabethand, bookyear1912
