Page:Carroll - Three Sunsets.djvu/56

STOLEN WATERS. The sun shot downward through the trees
 * His old familiar flame:

All ancient sounds upon the breeze
 * From copse and meadow came—
 * But I was not the same.

They call me mad: I smile, I weep,
 * Uncaring how or why:

Yea, when one's heart is laid asleep,
 * What better than to die?

So that the grave be dark and deep.

To die! To die? And yet, methinks,
 * I drink of life, to-day,

Deep as the thirsty traveler drinks
 * Of fountain by the way:

My voice is sad, my heart is gay. When yestereve was on the wane,
 * I heard a clear voice singing

So sweetly that, like summer-rain,
 * My happy tears came springing:

My human heart returned again. 38