AS A LITTLE SHADOW ON THE GRASS

How all alone we are, despite our striving For sympathy and love! How all alone we are in this our living, With silent skies above! These stars of ours have shone on Alexander; Their tender light was old What time the Roman hills knew lost Evander; The night winds sweet and cold Have lingered in the dusk with Omar’s roses; They keep the fragrance yet! And all the rare, green earth that round us closes Whispers a vague regret. It is not ours; we are not its first lovers; We do but journey here Where every little springing grass blade covers Some heart once held as dear. We yearn to touch them, stretch our hands in greeting; To make them all our own. Mist wraiths and dreams! they vanish at the meeting And we pass on alone.