Three Seasons

‘A cup for hope!’ she said, In springtime ere the bloom was old: The crimson wine was poor and cold By her mouth’s richer red.

‘A cup for love!’ how low, How soft the words; and all the while Her blush was rippling with a smile Like summer after snow.

‘A cup for memory!’ Cold cup that one must drain alone: 10 While autumn winds are up and moan Across the barren sea.

Hope, memory, love: Hope for fair morn, and love for day, And memory for the evening grey And solitary dove.

MIRAGE

The hope I dreamed of was a dream, Was but a dream; and now I wake, Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old, For a dream’s sake.

I hang my harp upon a tree, A weeping willow in a lake; I hang my silent harp there, wrung and snapt For a dream’s sake.

Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart; My silent heart, lie still and break: 10 Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed For a dream’s sake.