THE TWO GATES.

Two gates — and one was morning’ s, gold with gleams

Of sudden sunlight, and clear skies above

Ways where the air is musical with love,

And summer singing in a land of streams:

One sad with twilight and low sound that seems

Like the marred song-voice of a broken heart,

Where life and love sit evermore apart,

And look back longing to the gate of dreams.

Time was, I wandered in those sunlit lands,

And felt the glamour in my wakening eyes;

But now with sword aflame the angel stands,

Pointing the threshold of the gate of gloom;

While through the monotone of human cries,

Upsoars this pitiless, “fulfil thy doom!”