Page:Poems, Volume 1, Coates, 1916.djvu/70

48 The rose, the crocus, the narcissus sweet,

She lays to rest, undoubting, at her feet

Who from the meadows bright

Was snatched away to rule in the sad light

Of Hades, and to learn

Its lessons stern.

For Nature's faith is deep

That, waking from the dark and dreamless sleep,

Her flowers toward the sun shall wistful yearn,

And in the fragrant breast of Proserpine return.

Ah, lover true of men,

Forgive, forgive us, then,

If choked by tears we falter in our praise,

Remembering that we no more again

Shall hold glad converse with your spirit brave,

Nor from your lips hear words that lift and save,

Through all the lengthening number of our days!

By the great Silence you are set apart

From all the restless travail of the heart

That beats in us

So passionate and strong—

Are passed beyond the evening angelus

And Memnon's morning song.