Page:Tower of Ivory.djvu/54

38 A song between two silences Life sings, A melody 'twixt night and patient night. He strums his lute against the fading light To gild the shadow that the gloaming brings, And Love is but a plucking of the strings, A throb of music staying music's flight, A little note that hardly shall requite Thine outstretched hand that mars Life's lute-playings.

Yet, when the last faint echo of that note Has stirred the cypress-leaves at eventide, When night has stilled forever Life's white throat, And his gold lute lies shattered by his side, We two shall follow through a world remote The silence whereinto Love's music died.