To-day? Lo! night is here.

The glen grows heavy with some veil

Risen from the earth or fall'n to make earth pale;
And all stands hushed to eye and ear,

Until the night-wind shake the shade like fear
And every covert quail.

Ah! by a colder wave

On deathlier airs the hour must come

Which to thy heart, my love, shall call me home.
Between the lips of the low cave

Against that night the lapping waters lave,
And the dark lips are dumb.

But there Love's self doth stand,

And with Life's weary wings far-flown,

And with Death's eyes that make the water moan,

Gathers the water in his hand :

And they that drink know nought of sky or land But only love alone.

O soul-sequestered face

Far off,-O were that night but now !

So even beside that stream even I and thou

Through thirsting lips should draw Love's grace,

And in the zone of that supreme embrace

Bind aching breast and brow.

O water whispering

Still through the dark into mine ears,

As with mine eyes, is it not now with hers? -
Mine eyes that add to thy cold spring,
Wan water, wandering water weltering,
This hidden tide of tears.

THE CARD-DEALER.

COULD you not drink her gaze like wine?
Yet though its splendour swoon

Into the silence languidly

As a tune into a tune,

Those eyes unravel the coiled night

And know the stars at noon.

The gold that's heaped beside her hand,

In truth rich prize it were ;

And rich the dreams that wreathe her brows

With magic stillness there;

And he were rich who should unwind

That woven golden hair.

Around her, where she sits, the dance

Now breathes its eager heat;

And not more lightly or more true

Fall there the dancers' feet

Than fall her cards on the bright board

As 'twere an heart that beat.

Her fingers let them softly through,
Smooth polished silent things;

And each one as it falls reflects

In swift light-shadowings,

Blood-red and purple, green and blue,

The great eyes of her rings.

Whom plays she with? With thee, who lov'st

Those gems upon her hand;

With me, who search her secret brows;

With all men, bless'd or bann'd.

We play together, she and we,

Within a vain strange land:

A land without any order,—

Day even as night, (one saith,)— Where who lieth down ariseth not

Nor the sleeper awakeneth;

A land of darkness as darkness itself

And of the shadow of death.

What be her cards, you ask? Even these:-
The heart, that doth but crave
More, having fed; the diamond,

Skilled to make base seem brave;

The club, for smiting in the dark;
The spade, to dig a grave.

And do you ask what game she plays?

With me 'tis lost or won;

With thee it is playing still; with him

It is not well begun ;

But 'tis a game she plays with all

Beneath the sway o' the sun.

Thou seest the card that falls,—she knows

The card that followeth :

Her game in thy tongue is called Life,

As ebbs thy daily breath:

When she shall speak, thou'lt learn her tongue

And know she calls it Death.