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 And what of him who headed the tribes last year Against the Sultan? When he had lost the game, Blinded and burnt, and broken with pain and fear, Cared he then for the passing Mirage of Fame?"

Truly, men gain not much for all their strife!"

There are some chapters in the book of life Pages, whose print demands the morning light, That youth alone can understand aright. These I would read while time is with me still Let after happenings be what they will. For this I hold, that when a woman lies Watching her beauty fire her lover's eyes While the lithe strength, she worshipped from afar, Melts in her arms and quivers on her breast, She knows the utmost sense of joy and rest That fate has given to this luckless star Men call the world.

"And though the dream may fade, Passing away, as sunshine into shade, Memories of its light will still assuage The weariness that haunts the after age.

So shall she see the fire in other's eyes, Hear the quick questions and the low replies, And these shall not disturb her inward rest, Since, in her spring she also knew the best.

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