What of all the soul to think? 
    Some one offered it a cup
    Filled with a diviner drink,
    And the flame has burned it up.

    What of all the hope to climb? 
    Only in the self we grope
    To the misty end of time: 
    Truth has put an end to hope.

    What of all the heart to love? 
    Sadder than for will or soul,
    No light lured it on above;
    Love has found itself the whole.

THE HUNTER

    Twilight, a timid fawn, went glimmering by,
    And night, the dark blue hunter, followed fast: 
    Ceaseless pursuit and flight were in the sky,
    But the long chase had ceased for us at last.

    We watched together while the driven fawn
    Hid in the golden thicket of the day: 
    We from whose hearts pursuit and flight were gone
    Knew on the hunter’s breast her refuge lay.

THE VISION OF LOVE

    The twilight fleeted away in pearl on the stream,
    And night, like a diamond dome, stood still in our dream. 
    Your eyes like burnished stones or as stars were bright
    With the sudden vision that made us one with the night.

    We loved in infinite spaces, forgetting here
    The breasts that were lit with life and the lips so near;
    Till the wizard willows waved in the wind and drew
    Me away from the fulness of love and down to you.

    Our love was so vast that it filled the heavens up: 
    But the soft white form I held was an empty cup,
    When the willows called me back to earth with their sigh,
    And we moved as shades through the deep that was you and I.

A CALL OF THE SIDHE

    Tarry thou yet, late lingerer in the twilight’s glory: 
    Gay are the hills with song:  earth’s faery children leave
    More dim abodes to roam the primrose-hearted eve,
    Opening their glimmering lips to breathe some wondrous story. 
    Hush, not a whisper!  Let your heart alone go dreaming. 
    Dream unto dream may pass:  deep in the heart alone
    Murmurs the Mighty One his solemn undertone. 
    Canst thou not see adown the silver cloudland streaming
    Rivers of faery light, dewdrop on dewdrop falling,
    Starfire of silver flames, lighting the dark beneath? 
    And what enraptured hosts burn on the dusky heath! 
    Come thou away with them, for Heaven to Earth is calling. 
    These are Earth’s voice—­her answer—­spirits thronging. 
    Come to the Land of Youth:  the trees grown heavy there
    Drop on the purple wave the starry fruit they bear. 
    Drink:  the immortal waters quench the spirit’s longing. 
    Art thou not now, bright one, all sorrow past, in elation,
    Made young with joy, grown brother-hearted with the vast,
    Whither thy spirit wending flits the dim stars past
    Unto the Light of Lights in burning adoration.