Behind the Arras: A Book of the Unseen

by Bliss Carman


The Faitless Lover





O LIFE, dear Life, in this fair house
Long since did I, it seems to me,
In some mysterious doleful way
Fall out of love with thee.

For, Life, thou art become a ghost,


A memory of days gone by,
A poor forsaken thing between
A heartache and a sigh.

And now, with shadows from the hills
Thronging the twilight, wraith on wraith,

Unlock the door and let me go
To thy dark rival Death!




O Heart, dear Heart, in this fair house
Why hast thou wearied and grown tired,
Between a morning and a night,

Of all thy soul desired?

Fond one, who cannot understand
Even these shadows on the floor,
Yet must be dreaming of dark loves
And joys beyond my door!


But I am beautiful past all
The timid tumult of thy mood,
And thou returning not must still
Be mine in solitude.