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  ― 69 ―

Ballade of Dreams

ACROSS the loom the shuttles fly,
Like random, rippled lights at play
Upon the road where you, where I,
Drift down the Valley of To-day;
White snowdrop stars beside the way
Illume the flight of fancies fled,
In some far Spring-time's snowdrop spray
Our dreams shall live when we are dead.

We quibble over how and why,
Or vex our souls with “yea” and “nay”;
Turn all the golden years awry,
And bid the wheel of pleasure stay;
And still our webs of hodden grey
Are shot with many a wizard thread
That passes not with passing clay—
Our dreams shall live when we are dead.

The proud, the strong, the brave shall die,
All flesh shall perish e'en as they;
Nor love, nor life, nor duty's tie
Shall hold the fateful hour at bay:
But past restraining barriers, yea,
On universal pinions spread,
A phoenix phalanx o'er decay,
Our dreams shall live when we are dead.

With cypress gather blooms of may,
Beyond the dark the dawn is red;
Peace! sad one, tho' the gods shall slay,
Our dreams shall live when we are dead.

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