The Faithless Lover

I O LIFE, dear Life, in this fair house Long since did I, it seems to me, In some mysterious doleful way Fall out of love with thee. For, Life, thou art become a ghost, A memory of days gone by, A poor forsaken thing between A heartache and a sigh. And now, with shadows from the hills Thronging the twilight, wraith on wraith, Unlock the door and let me go To thy dark rival Death! II O Heart, dear Heart, in this fair house Why hast thou wearied and grown tired, Between a morning and a night, Of all thy soul desired? Fond one, who cannot understand, Even these shadows on the floor, Yet must be dreaming of dark loves And joys beyond my door! But I am beautiful past all The timid tumult of thy mood, And thou returning not must still Be mine in solitude.