Alcestis
Not long the living weep above their dead,And you will grieve, Admetus, but not long.The winter’s silence in these desolate hallsWill break with April’s laughter on your lips;The bees among the flowers, the birds that mate,The widowed year, grown gaunt with memoryAnd yearning toward the summer’s fruits, will comeWith lotus comfort, feeding all your veins.The vining brier will crawl across my grave,And you will woo another in my stead.Those tender, foolish names you called me by,Your passionate kiss that clung unsatisfied,The pressure of your hand, when dark night hushedLife’s busy stir, and left us two alone,Will you remember? or, when dawn creeps in,And you bend o’er another’s pillowed head,Seeing sleep’s loosened hair about her face,Until her low love-laughter welcomes you,Will you, down-gazing at her waking eyes,Forget?So have I loved you, my Admetus,I thank the cruel fates who clip my lifeTo lengthen yours, they tarry not for ageTo dim my eye and blanch my cheek, but nowTake me, while my lips are sweet to youAnd youth hides yet amid this hair of mine,Brown in the shadow, golden in the light.Bend down and kiss me, dying for your sake,Not gratefully, but sadly, love’s farewell;And if the flowering year’s oblivionLend a new passion to thy life, far downIn the dim Stygian shadows wandering,I will not know, but still will cherish there,Where no change comes, thy love upon my lips.