Poems By Arjava

SMILING end golden-hearted,

Gunvant came

With' a width of sturdy shoulder

And well-knit frame.

I gazed upon friendly eyes,

Upon dark brown hair,

And the sunshine became more golden,

More rich the air.

He has carried that wealth by his going

To a dim far place ;

Never hand has the joy of his handshake.

Never eye of his face.

And I would that this tindery heart

From the flints of sorrow

Should capture a dream-spark of Gunvant

For memory's morrow.