ErwV ImeroV te.

I said to my heart,-'I am tired,
Am tired of loving in vain;
Since the beauty of the Desired
Shall not be unveiled again.'
So we laid our Longing to rest,
To sleep through the endless hours,
And called to a breeze of the west
To kiss the acacia flowers;
To kiss them until they break
And hide him beneath their bloom,
That our Longing for Love's sweet sake
Be shrouded fair in the tomb.
But the Memories arose in light,
From meadow and wharf and wave,
And sang through the gathering night,
As we turned to leave the grave.
Of Longing they sang, son of Love,
Love patient as earth beneath,
As the heavens immortal above,
And mightier than time or death.
They sang till they woke him at morn;
Arisen he stood by my bed,
In his face the glory of dawn,
The gold and purple and red.
He is mine thro' the depth of pain,
Is mine through the length of ways;
But a death awaits him again,
In the Triumph of Patient Days.