Page:Poems and ballads (IA poemsballads00swinrich).pdf/169

 What pale new loves and treasures New years will bear; What beam will fall, what shower, What grief or joy for dower; But one thing knows the flower; the flower is fair."

Glad, but not flushed with gladness, Since joys go by; Sad, but not bent with sadness, Since sorrows die; Deep in the gleaming glass She sees all past things pass, And all sweet life that was lie down and lie.

There glowing ghosts of flowers Draw down, draw nigh; And wings of swift spent hours Take flight and fly; She sees by formless gleams, She hears across cold streams, Dead mouths of many dreams that sing and sigh.

Face fallen and white throat lifted, With sleepless eye