William Ernest Henley

Or ever the knightly years were gone
With the old world to the grave,
I was a read more

Or ever the knightly years were gone
With the old world to the grave,
I was a king in Babylon
And you were a Christian slave.

What is the voice of strange command
Calling you still, as friend calls friend,
With love that read more

What is the voice of strange command
Calling you still, as friend calls friend,
With love that cannot brook delay,
To rise and follow the ways that wend
Over the hills and far away.

The smoke ascends
In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires
Shine and are changed. In the valley
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The smoke ascends
In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires
Shine and are changed. In the valley
Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun
Closing his benediction,
Sinks, and the darkening air
Thrills with the sense of the triumphing night,--
Night with train of stars
And her great gift of sleep.

O Death! O Change! O Time!
Without you, O! the insufferable eyes
Of these poor Might-Have-Beens,
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O Death! O Change! O Time!
Without you, O! the insufferable eyes
Of these poor Might-Have-Beens,
These fatuous, ineffectual yesterdays.

Here is the ghost
Of a summer that lived for us,
Here is a promise
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Here is the ghost
Of a summer that lived for us,
Here is a promise
Of summer to be.