And thrilling scripts of bosom-scented phrase,
Telling of love that never hath an end,
And sacred relics of wonder-working grace,
Strands of bright hair, and tender webs of lace,
Press to my lips--until the Present seems
The Past again to my ensorcelled gaze,--
Kneeling within that cloister of old dreams.


ENVOI

Princesses unforgot, your lover lays
His heart upon your altars, and he deems
He treads again the fair love-haunted ways--
Kneeling within that cloister of old dreams.




AN OLD LOVE LETTER

I was reading a letter of yours to-day,
The date--O a thousand years ago!
The postmark is there--the month was May:
How, in God's name, did I let you go?
What wonderful things for a girl to say!
And to think that I hadn't the sense to know--
What wonderful things for a man to hear!
O still beloved, O still most dear.