An Anthology of Modern Bohemian Poetry/Reverie
I know that the setting sun will quench the fear of the coming morn,
And that before a new blossom the old one is slain by a chilling blight;
Visions, all visions grow mute at the vision of souls new-bom,
And God in His temples trembles at new gods that rise to smite.
How silent and cheerless and bare! I was yesterday in my bloom,
Till I shall come to perceive that I am fading to-day,
And I close my shrine for ever and the bells will peal my doom,
And my lamp no longer will burn, and empty will be my way.
"Sorrows Overcome" (1897).