Poor eyes, you lamps that are failing,
How little remains of your glow?
Encroaching night is veiling
The things of the here-below.
Or is your gathering gloaming
Indifference alone?
O eyes that once went roaming
To Beauty and the Unknown!
You sink your lids like a curtain,
When Love goes by, a flame;
You know your sorrow is certain,
And age to you is shame.
And yet, my heart's best praising,
O flameless lamps, is for you;
Through you my spirit gazing
First saw, and felt, and knew!
You showed me the mountain steep, with
The sea and the stars above,
And all that my life is deep with:
My child, and death, and Love.