XLV

There was a time when I was fain to guess
The riddles of our life, when I would soar
Against the cruel secrets of the door,
So that I fell to deeper loneliness.


XLVI

One is behind the draperies of life,
One who will tear these tanglements away--
No dark assassin, for the dawn of day
Leaps out, as leapeth laughter, from the knife.


XLVII

If you will do some deed before you die,
Remember not this caravan of death,
But have belief that every little breath
Will stay with you for an eternity.


XLVIII

Astrologers!--give ear to what they say!
"The stars be words; they float on heaven's breath
And faithfully reveal the days of death,