Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/408

SONGS AND BALLADS The feast may go on, and the music

Be scattered in ecstasy round,—

Thy whisper, "I love thee! I love thee!"

Hath flooded my soul with its sound.

I think not of time that is flying,

How short is the hour I have won,

How near is this living to dying,

How the shadow still follows the sun;

There is naught upon earth, no desire,

Worth a thought, though 't were had by a sign!

I love thee! I love thee! bring nigher

Thy spirit, thy kisses, to mine.

THE SUN-DIAL

"Horas non numero nisi serenas"

the sunny hours

Are numbered here,—

No winter-time that lowers,

No twilight drear.

But from a golden sky

When sunbeams fall,

Though the bright moments fly,—

They're counted all.

My heart its transient woe

Remembers not!

The ills of long ago

Are half forgot;

But Childhood's round of bliss,

Youth's tender thrill,

Hope's whisper, Love's first kiss,—

They haunt me still!

Sorrows are everywhere,

Joys—all too few! 378