William Ernest Henley

Some Starlit Garden Grey With Dew

Some starlit garden grey with dew,
Some chamber flushed with wine and fire,
What matters where, so I and you
Are worthy our desire?
 
Behind, a past that scolds and jeers
For ungirt loins and lamps unlit;
In front, the unmanageable years,
The trap upon the Pit;
 
Think on the shame of dreams for deeds,
The scandal of unnatural strife,
The slur upon immortal needs,
The treason done to life:
 
Arise! no more a living lie,
And with me quicken and control
Some memory that shall magnify
The universal Soul.
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