Volume Ii Part 105 (1/2)

THE LAST MEMORY

When I am old, and think of the old days, And warm my hands before a little blaze, Having forgotten love, hope, fear, desire, I shall see, smiling out of the pale fire, One face, mysterious and exquisite; And I shall gaze, and ponder over it, Wondering, was it Leonardo wrought That stealthy ardency, where pa.s.sionate thought Burns inward, a revealing flame, and glows To the last ecstasy, which is repose?

Was it Bronzino, those Borghese eyes?

And, musing thus among my memories, O unforgotten! you will come to seem, As pictures do, remembered, some old dream.

And I shall think of you as something strange, And beautiful, and full of helpless change, Which I beheld and carried in my heart; But you, I loved, will have become a part Of the eternal mystery, and love Like a dim pain; and I shall bend above My little fire, and s.h.i.+ver, being cold, When you are no more young, and I am old.

Arthur Symons [1865-

”DOWN BY THE SALLEY GARDENS”

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet; She pa.s.sed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet.

She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree; But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.

In a field by the river my love and I did stand, And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.

She bid me take life easy, as the gra.s.s grows on the weirs; But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

William Butler Yeats [1865-

ASHES OF LIFE

Love has gone and left me, and the days are all alike.

Eat I must, and sleep I will--and would that night were here!

But ah, to lie awake and hear the slow hours strike!

Would that it were day again, with twilight near!

Love has gone and left me, and I don't know what to do; This or that or what you will is all the same to me; But all the things that I begin I leave before I'm through-- There's little use in anything as far as I can see.

Love has gone and left me, and the neighbors knock and borrow, And life goes on forever like the gnawing of a mouse.

And to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow There's this little street and this little house.