Eros T5
The falling leaf inaugurates
The reign of her confusion
The pounding wave reverberates
The crash of her illusion;
And home, where passion lived and died,
Becomes a place where she can hide,—
While all the town and harbor side
Vibrate with her seclusion.
We tell you, tapping on our brows,
The story as it should be,—
As if the story of a house
Were told, or ever could be;
We'll have no kindly veil between
Her visions and those we have seen,—
As if we guessed what hers have been
Or what they are or would be.
Meanwhile, we do no harm; for they
That with a god have striven,
Nor hearing much of what we say,
Take what the god has given;
Though like waves breaking it may be,
Or like a changed familiar tree.
Or like a stairway to the sea,
Where down the blind are driven.
[207]
