INEVITABLE CHANGE

Young as the Spring seemed life when she

Came from her silent East to me;

Unquiet as Autumn was my breast

When she declined into her West.

Such tender, such untroubling things

She taught me, daughter of all Springs;

Such dusty deathly lore I learned

When her last embers redly burned.

How should it hap ( Love, canst thou say? )

Such end should be to so pure day?

Such shining chastity give place

To this annulling grave's disgrace?

Such hopes be quenched in this despair,

Grace chilled to granite everywhere?

How should — in vain I cry — how should

That be, alas, which only could!