LOST TREASURE

You know deep in your heart, it could not last— And, when a wind, newborn on some hillside— (Some fair tall hill the other side of Crete) Came laden with the dear and odorous past— (Laden with scents of gardens that have died, Buried in dust, not any longer sweet.) Then, realized, all the unlovely years Lay on your heart, like those old gardens’ dust; You had forgotten how your life was fair, For all the memories were dulled with tears Since shed, and unsuspected moth and rust Ate deep, and naught remembered was but care. So is your treasure lost, vanished away— Nothing but wind and half-shut eyes and grass— Nothing of now but strivings after then. And naught heard in the clear air of to-day But dusty wings that crumble as they pass— You have not strength to make them live again.