IX

Two faces haunt the stillnesses of sleep.

The first is of a woman I have known

Past years, in many lives, as on a throne

Within my heart, for whom I daily keep

Fast and high vigil while deep calls to deep;

You also stir me, like wind-voices blown

Through woodland hollows where I walk alone

When twilight and its shadows slowly creep;

And I am torn‘ twixt love of you and her —

My dear Dream-Lady of some long ago —

Till past and present, pausing to confer,

Determine what I hardly dare to know:

The faces I have loved and love are one —

How you have followed me from sun to sun!