She Comes Not

She comes not when Noon is on the roses--

Too bright is Day.

She comes not to the Soul till it reposes

From work and play.

But when Night is on the hills, and the great Voices

Roll in from Sea,

By starlight and candle-light and dreamlight

She comes to me.

Herbert Trench

Come let us make Love Deathless

COME let us make love deathless, thou and I,

Seeing that our footing on the earth is brief--

Seeing that her multitudes sweep out to die

Mocking all that passes our belief.

For the standard of our love not theirs we take:

    If we go hence to-day,

Fill the high cup that is so soon to break

    With richer wine than they!

Ay, since beyond these walls no heavens there be,

Joy to revive or wasted youth repair,

I'll not bedim the lovely flame in thee,

Nor sully the sad splendour that we wear.

Great be the love, if with the lover dies

    Our greatness past recall,

And nobler for the fading of those eyes

    The world seen once for all.

Herbert Trench [ref 124]