Classic Poem

The rosary of life holds many days,
And some are pearl and coral, gold are some,
Enchanted opal, heavenly chrysoprase,
But on the fatal thread anon there come
Swart amulets the lips wax pale to kiss,
Days when the world hath faded from its bliss
And all the merry music gone amiss.
Ay, life is sweet, but ever and anon
The spent heart cries on Avalon,
Avalon.

For oh, the ravin of this shadowy wood,
The stain upon the sweetest songster's bill!
The treason of this murmurous river-flood,
Whose silvery course along the valley still,
The trustful valley tranced in sunset rose,
Breathes stealthy poison and consuming woes!
In the blithe eyes of Pan a horror grows.
Beauteous is earth, but ever and anon
The pierced heart cries on Avalon,
Avalon.

And woe is me for labor that is loss,
For truth the seed locked in a fossil lie,
And woe of woes for love whose martyr-cross
Is wrought from wood of Eden spicery.
A Voice, a Voice to read life's runic scroll!
But from the hollow places of the soul
Only her own fantastic echoes roll.
Man lives by God, but ever and anon
The starved heart cries on Avalon,