Are the skies wet because we weep,

Or fair because of any mirth?

Cry out; they are gods; perchance they sleep;

Cry; thou shalt know what prayers are worth, Thou dust and earth.

O earth, thou art fair; O dust, thou art great;
O laughing lips and lips that mourn,
Pray, till ye feel the exceeding weight
Of God's intolerable scorn,
Not to be borne.

Behold, there is no grief like this;

The barren blossom of thy prayer,
Thou shalt find out how sweet it is.
O fools and blind, what seek ye there,
High up in the air?

Ye must have gods, the friends of men,
Merciful gods, compassionate,
And these shall answer you again.
Will ye beat always at the gate,
Ye fools of fate?

Ye fools and blind; for this is sure,
That all ye shall not live, but die

Lo, what thing have ye found endure?
Or what thing have ye found on high
Past the blind sky?

The ghosts of words and dusty dreams,
Old memories, faiths infirm and dead.
Ye fools; for which among you deems
His prayer can alter green to red
Or stones to bread?

Why should ye bear with hopes and fears
Till all these things be drawn in one,
The sound of iron-footed years,

And all the oppression that is done
Under the sun?

Ye might end surely, surely pass
Out of the multitude of things,

Under the dust, beneath the grass,

Deep in dim death, where no thought stings, No record clings.

No memory more of love or hate,

No trouble, nothing that aspires,

No sleepless labour thwarting fate,

All

And thwarted; where no travail tires,
Where no faith fires.

passes, nought that has been is,

Things good and evil have one end.

Can anything be otherwise

Though all men swear all things would mend
With God to friend?

Can ye beat off one wave with prayer,

Can ye move mountains? bid the flower
Take flight and turn to a bird in the air?
Can ye hold fast for shine or shower
One wingless hour?

Ah sweet, and we too, can we bring
One sigh back, bid one smile revive?

Can God restore one ruined thing,
Or he who slays our souls alive
Make dead things thrive?

Two gifts perforce he has given us yet,

Though sad things stay and glad things fly;

Two gifts he has given us, to forget

All glad and sad things that go by,
And then to die.

We know not whether death be good,
But life at least it will not be :

Men will stand saddening as we stood,
Watch the same fields and skies as we

And the same sea.

Let this be said between us here,

One love grows green when one turns grey; This year knows nothing of last year;

To-morrow has no more to say

To yesterday.

Live and let live, as I will do,
Love and let love, and so will I.
But, sweet, for me no more with you
Not while I live, not though I die.
Good-night, good-bye.

:

AN INTERLUDE.

IN the greenest growth of the Maytime,
I

I rode where the woods were wet,
IN

Between the dawn and the daytime;

The spring was glad that we met.

There was something the season wanted, Though the ways and the woods smelt sweet;

The breath at your lips that panted,

The pulse of the grass at your feet.

You came, and the sun came after,

And the green grew golden above;
And the flag-flowers lightened with laughter,
And the meadow-sweet shook with love.

Your feet in the full-grown grasses

Moved soft as a weak wind blows;

You passed me as April passes,

With face made out of a rose.