XIII

I died to-day, and yet upon my eyes

A glamour of the gorgeous summer green

Still wavers, and my brain has kept a keen,

Sweet bird-song. Glad with light, the summer skies

Are sapphire, and a purple shadow lies

Across the hills — no change is on the scene

Since happy yesterday. Ah! can it mean

The body lives when stricken spirit dies?

The blow has fallen, yet I can recall

The first of days when this dead heart drew breath —

A wondrous moon-flower waking of a heart.

Strange — then as now the moment seemed to part

Body from soul, so like are birth and death;

So did I gain, and so I lost my all.