WITH the glamour of the Gay
How you made our hearts to flame;
Gave each life some airy aim:
Ever round you seemed to play
Sunlight from some inner day.
Dazzling as with red and gold;
Rich with beauty, love and youth—
How were we to know the truth,
That if all the tale were told
Life for you was sad and cold?
For you found if we would wake
And the joy make young each heart,
You who told must stand apart:
And you bore it for our sake,
Though your heart was nigh to break.
So your life was like a sphere's:
One side, all aglow, meets day,
And the other turned away,
Icy-strange and cold appears,
Overhung with starry tears.
George William Russell