How the world wears and what loves it wearies,
How they came through laughter to the cold
Endearment who were lovers and yet how
— Cold hand in hand, with ear cocked to the world
To spring the simple catch that varies
The old hum-drumming spheres
They danced to once — tired lovers now,
How they limp along the discordant years
Defeats us now while we are young in love.
Yet, in the world, we know new love grows old,
Lovers yet young; eager hearts decay,
Cold hands survive, and we are of the world.
The sure and subtle heavens move
That make our music, too,
On poles of our own turning till the day
We fail that song. Fear this. Let us be true.