‘ THE DESK'S DRY WOOD’

Dear Desk, Farewell! I spoke you oft

In phrases neither sweet nor soft,

But at the end I come to see

That thou a friend hast been to me,

No flatterer but very friend.

For who shall teach so well again

The blessed lesson-book of pain,

The truth that souls that would aspire

Must bravely face the scourge and fire,

If they would conquer in the end?

Two days!

Shall I not hug thee very close?

Two days,

And then we part upon our ways.

Ah me!

Who shall possess thee after me?

O pray he be no enemy to poesy,

To gentle maid or gentle dream.

How have we dreamed together, I and thou,

Sweet dreams that like some incense wrapt us round

The last new book, the last new love,

The last new trysting-ground.

How many queens have ruled and passed

Since first we met; how thick and fast

The letters used to come at first, how thin at last;

Then ceased, and winter for a space!

Until another hand

Brought spring into the land,

And went the seasons’ pace.

And now, Dear Desk, thou knowest for how long time

I have no queen but song:

Yea, thou hast seen the last love fade, and now

Behold the last of many a secret rhyme!