IX

How we would live! We'd drink the years like wine,

With all to-morrows hid behind the veil,

Which is your hair; between two lilies pale —

Your slender hands — my heart should lie and shine,

A crimson rose. We'd catch the wind and twine

The evening stars — a chaplet musical —

To crown our folly, lure the nightingale

To sing the bliss your lips should teach to mine.

And if the sage, declaring life is vain,

Should frown upon the flower of all our days

And chide the sun that knows no tears of rain,

He should not tease our heart with cynic eye —

The soul's vast altar stands beyond his gaze

When two have lived — then shall they fear to die?