A Meeting

When all the splendour wanes Like a slow sunset from the changeful leaves, And the grey time of rains With hooded dawns and eves Approaches, I shall come to you once more, Some afternoon of sun and sunlit cloud And knocking at your door Await your soft and murmurous tread, scarce heard For sudden pulses loud By long desire and many memories stirred. . . So you will come, and we shall meet again, After the going-down of many days, The death of many dreams; Under the gracious heavens of your gaze My heart shall lie as some autumnal land Fulfilled with aureate light and azure haze, The while we speak of themes Familiar, or recall forgotten things— Telling of autumn and the fallen flow'rs, And the fled wings— Lest love usurp our straitly guarded lips, And the irrevocable word be said That ends the wordless hours . . . Unheard, like petals shed In fields of poppy-bloom, The moments fall and turn to memories Though Love foresees Here, in the sunlit room, The ultimate night and silence of his doom. But not too heavily the burden weighs, While your sweet gaze Lingers upon me like a tranquil light, And all the murmured music of your voice Becomes an echo for the songless days. And heart and soul rejoice, Knowing your presence for a little while, But dare not tell how love has made this hour ineffable, And dare not tell the dearness of your smile.