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Show DUST. H Spurned by the foot, its mystery blows, H Dust of the galley, dust of a king, WM Of lover who sang love's deathless rose U The laughter of Time is a silent thing. U Dust of the lute and of lips that are dead; I Golden lily and flowering quince, B Pain forgotten and passion fled, B Hearts that have loved and wept long since. B Seed of the mold and of winding-sheet, H Grain of gold from a crumbled crown, U Myrrh and aloe and time-spent sweet I Dust; on a breath of the East blown down. Snared in a web of wind and of sun, Mingle and mix they, serf and king, Stripe and sceptre at last are one I The laughter of Time is a silent thing. B Virginia Woodward Cloud, in Smart Set. M |
