WHEN our glowing dreams were dead,
Ruined our heroic piles,
Something in your dark eyes said:
“Think no more of love or smiles.”

Something in me still would say,
“Though our dreamland palace goes,
I have seen how in decay
Still the wild rose clings and blows.”

But your dark eyes willed it thus:
“Build our lofty dream again:
Let our palace rise o’er us:
Love can never be till then.”