Classic Poem

Ah ! marvel not if when I come to die
— And follow Death the way my fancies went
Year after fading year, the last mad sky
— Finds me impenitent;
For though my heart went doubting through the night,
— With many a backward glance at heaven's face,
Yet found I many treasures of delight
— Within this pleasant place.

I shall not grieve because the girls were fair
— And kinder than the world, nor shall I weep
Because with crying lips and clinging hair
— They stole away my sleep.
For lacking this I might not yet have known
— How high the heart could climb, or waking seen
The mountains bare their silver breasts of stone
— From their chaste robes of green.

Though it were all a sin, within the mirth
— And pain of life I found a song above
Our songs, in her who scattered on the earth
— Her glad largesse of love;
And though she held some dream that was not ours
— In some far place that was not for our feet,
Where blew across the gladder, madder flowers
— A wind more bitter-sweet.

Ah! who shall hearten when the music stops,
— For joy of silence? While they dreamed above
She showed me love upon the mountain tops
— And in the valleys, love.
And while the wise found heaven with their charts
— And lore of souls, she made an earth for me
More sweet than all, and from our beating hearts
— She called the pulsing sea.

So marvel not if in the days when death
— Shall make my body mine, I do not cry
For hours and treasure lost, but with my breath
— Praise my mortality.
For lo! this place is fair, and losing all
— That I have won and dreamed beneath her kiss,
I would not see the light of morning fall
— On any world but this.