Quatrains

Time time has no flight—’t is we who speed along; The days and nights are but the same as when The earth awoke with the first rush of song, And felt the swiftly passing feet of men. INFALLIBILITY “BELIEVE in me,” the Prophet cried,— “I hold the key of life and light:” And, lo, one touched him, and he died Within the passing of a night. POWER HAROUN, the Caliph, through the sunlit street Walked slowly with bent head and weary breath, And cried, “Alas, I cannot stay my feet, That move unceasing toward the gate of Death.” DISAPPOINTMENT FROM the drear wastes of unfulfilled desire, We harvest dreams that never come to pass, Then pour our wine amid the dying fire, And on the cold hearth break the empty glass. COMPENSATION NO ceaseless vigil with hard toil we keep, And to grim want give but a passing breath; For after labor comes the rest of sleep, And hunger cannot make its home with death.