To a Dead Poet

I, too, have loved with you our mother Earth :
Listen'd at pensive eve the lyric thrush
Shake out his ecstasy to lovely birth
Rapturously in some lone shadowy bush.
I, too, have gazed on youth : watched in his eyes
The lightning passion flash, the vision glow,
Have watched him like a god ascendant rise—
I, too, have seen the fires of Youth burn low.
Sad with the presage of his chilling breath
Fearless you took the shadowy way with death.
You took the harp of life with broken strings
Sang in your passing brave of noble things.
That brave serenity I pray to know
When out with Death into the night I go.

May, 1915.