A Lyric

Oh, once I could not understand

The sob within the throat of spring,—

The shrilling of the frogs, nor why

The birds so passionately sing.

That was before your beauty came

And stooped to teach my soul desire,

When on these mortal lips you laid

The magic and immortal fire.

I wondered why the sea should seem

So gray, so lonely, and so old;

The sigh of level-driving snows

In winter so forlornly cold.

I wondered what it was could give

The scarlet autumn pomps their pride.

And paint with colors not of earth

The glory of the mountainside.

I could not tell why youth should dream

And worship at the evening star,

And yet must go with eager feet

Where danger and where splendor are.

I could not guess why men at times,

Beholding beauty, should go mad

With joy or sorrow or despair

Or some unknown delight they had.

I wondered what they had received

From Time's inexorable hand

So full of loveliness and doom.

But now, ah, now I understand!