Page:Twilight Hours (1868).djvu/170

 Y darling, O my darling ! with the soft sad eyes, Set like twilight planets in the raining skies ; With the brow all patience, and the lips all pain, Save the curves for kisses — kiss me, love, once again. My priestess, O my priestess ! with the almond bough That her pale hand holdeth, dry and barren now ; With its crown of blossoms by the rude wind rent, With the gift God-taken that of God was sent. Mine empress, O mine empress ! with the shattered throne, Is there yet no kingdom we can call thine own ? Is success the only thing the world holds good ? Or is God as man, and could not, if He would ?