Poems By Arjava

O NlGHT so thick with darkness,

How can there be

Even one poor heart-beat voyaging

To him from me ?

O stars who thread the dimness

With joy serene,

And glimmer above each dwelling

Where he has been,

Now gather thoughts of gladness,

Slide through his sleep

To the last dream-depths of slumber

That he may steep

Mind, heart and will in joyance

And, waking, tell

With a gleam in his eye and a smiling

" That his dream went well."

But I in the vacant heavens

See one half moon,

Emblem of all things missing

From our life-tune ;

Yet if Gunvant's voice were speaking

That dear-loved sound,

All my days were a singing rapture,—

The full moon's round.