Shadow

O why should Youth, whose symbol is the lark
That mounts with new-born dreams unto the sky,
Be doomed at frequent intervals to lie
Voiceless and dreamless, prostrate in the dark ?
Why, 'mid the laughter of the carnival,
The feast of roses sensuous with delight,
Why should there break the terror of a call—
Death calling Youth into the unknown night ?

For thus at morn the twilight-footed Death
Sweeps from the zenith to the orient rim
Where Youth doth play ; and soon his phantom wreath
Fadeth like beauty into distance dim :
Fadeth like yon rich sunset in the sky
That seems O sad and tenderly to die !