Men at forty Learn to close softly The doors to rooms they will not be Coming back to.
Nostalgias were peeled from it long ago.
How shall I speak of Doom, and ours in special, But as of something altogether common?
The artist will have had his revenge for being made to wait,
A revenge not only necessary but right and clever--
Simply to leave him out of the scene forever.
There is no way to ease the burden. The voyage leads on from harm to harm, A land of others and of silence.
Soon the purple dark must bruise
Lily and bleeding-heart and rose,
And the little Cupid lose
Eyes and ears and chin and nose
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