Classic Poem

Had I the power
— To Midas given of old
To touch a flower
— And leave the petals gold,
I then might touch thy face,
— Delightful boy,
And leave a metal grace,
— A graven joy.

Thus would I slay, —
— Ah, desperate device!
The vital day
— That trembles in thine eyes,
And let the red lips close
— Which sang so well,
And drive away the rose
— To leave a shell.

Then I myself,
— Rising austere and dumb,
On the high shelf
— Of my half-lighted room
Would place the shining bust
— And wait alone,
Until I was but dust,
— Buried unknown.

Thus in my love
— For nations yet unborn,
I would remove
— From our two lives the morn,
And muse on loveliness
— In mine arm-chair,
Content should Time confess
— How sweet you were.