to think that we shall lie mouldering in our graves while women are
dancing and kissing? They will not even know that I lived and was
loved. It will not occur to them to say as they undress of an
evening, 'Were he alive to-day we might love him.'"


THE BALLADE OF DON JUAN DEAD

My days for singing and loving are over,
And stark I lie in my narrow bed,
I care not at all if roses cover,
Or if above me the snow is spread;
I am weary of dreaming of my sweet dead,
All gone like me unto common clay.
Life's bowers are full of love's fair fray,
Of piercing kisses and subtle snares;
So gallants are conquered, ah, well away!--
My love was stronger and fiercer than theirs.

O happy moths that now flit and hover
From the blossom of white to the blossom of red,
Take heed, for I was a lordly lover
Till the little day of my life had sped;
As straight as a pine-tree, a golden head,
And eyes as blue as an austral bay.
Ladies, when loosing your evening array,
Reflect, had you lived in my years, my prayers
Might have won you from weakly lovers away--
My love was stronger and fiercer than theirs.