Page:An Anthology of Modern Bohemian Poetry.pdf/98

94

Gloom, the mute spinner, grief weaved in my yearning,
 * When in the dead waste quailed the hope that lies,

Till suddenly at night my eyes were turning
 * Unto the bluish mirror of the skies.

Like stars, as path I chose eternity—
 * Age mars them not, for them no change is wrought;

In azure space, calm, crystal-cold, they flee,
 * Who would be deathless, solitude has sought.

Silent sonata, 'mid stars' dreary way, How burden'st thou the soul, that fain would lay
 * Amid a dream of molten gold, its wings!

As from a dozing cup, where joy makes rife Hot passion, rather would I drink of life,
 * Than 'mid vain beams reach deathless lonely things.

"" (1909).