Before the Mirror

I.

White rose in red rose-gardenIs not so white;Snowdrops that plead for pardonAnd pine for frightBecause the hard East blowsOver their maiden rowsGrow not as this face grows from pale to bright.

Behind the veil, forbidden,Shut up from sight,Love, is there sorrow hidden,Is there delight?Is joy thy dower or grief,White rose of weary leaf,Late rose whose life is brief, whose loves are light?

Soft snows that hard winds hardenTill each flake biteFill all the flowerless gardenWhose flowers took flightLong since when summer ceased,And men rose up from feast,And warm west wind grew east, and warm day night.

II.

"Come snow, come wind or thunderHigh up in air,I watch my face, and wonderAt my bright hair;Nought else exalts or grievesThe rose at heart, that heavesWith love of her own leaves and lips that pair.

"She knows not loves that kissed herShe knows not where.Art thou the ghost, my sister,White sister there,Am I the ghost, who knows?My hand, a fallen rose,Lies snow-white on white snows, and takes no care.

"I cannot see what pleasuresOr what pains were;

What pale new loves and treasuresNew years will bear;What beam will fall, what shower,What grief or joy for dower;But one thing knows the flower; the flower is fair."

III.

Glad, but not flushed with gladness,Since joys go by;Sad, but not bent with sadness,Since sorrows die;Deep in the gleaming glassShe sees all past things pass,And all sweet life that was lie down and lie.

There glowing ghosts of flowersDraw down, draw nigh;And wings of swift spent hoursTake flight and fly;She sees by formless gleams,She hears across cold streams,Dead mouths of many dreams that sing and sigh.

Face fallen and white throat lifted,With sleepless eye

She sees old loves that drifted,She knew not why,Old loves and faded fearsFloat down a stream that hearsThe flowing of all men’s tears beneath the sky.