Page:Three Plays Sunderland Hills.pdf/90

Rh Since ever thro' the laughter and the song, Through mornings quiet and hush of evening, We hear the barking of the insistent Sphynx, Inveterate asker, challenging us to guess Her irreducible riddle, unanswer'd still.

It is not Death I fear but hateful Age.

But even Age may happy be, a mind At ease and purg'd of passion,

(Interrupting him):

Aye to men, But woman's life with her last lover ends. Conceive a may-fly, with a life prolong'd Beyond the splendid setting of its sun, So late to linger were not, sure, to live? The dark, the dew, for radiant light and heat