ALTER EGO WHERE is the boyish Poet Who used with you to write? Alas! his songs are ended: Beneath a flowering myrtle, He had grown older, graver,— He had grown graver, sadder, What should he do but dwindle, His lyre was carved for pleasure, So, 'neath a flowering myrtle 1923 [1888 FOR A CLOSING PAGE "Never a palinode!"—" Q." LIFE, like a page unpenned, Spreads out its whiteness; Nothing, from end to end, Marring its brightness. Surely a field to claim Steadfast endeavour? Where one might win a name Now-to review it all What a prosaic, Forced, ineffectual, Paltry mosaic! Plans that ne'er found a base; Wingless upyearning; Speed that ne'er won the race; Fire without burning; Doubt never set at rest, Stifle or falter it; Good that was not the best ... Yet-would you alter it? Ν IN AFTER DAYS IN after days when grasses high O'er-top the stone where I shall lie, Though ill or well the world adjust My slender claim to honoured dust, I shall not question or reply. I shall not see the morning sky; But yet, now living, fain were 1 |