| Sapientia Lunae |
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The wisdom of the world said unto me;
“Go forth and run, the race is to the brave;
Perchance some honour tarrieth for thee!”
“As tarrieth,” I said, “for sure, the grave.”
For I had pondered on a rune of roses,
Which to her votaries the moon discloses.
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The wisdom of the world said: “There are bays:
Go forth and run, for victory is good,
After the stress of the laborious days.”
“Yet,” said I, “shall I be the worms’ sweet food,”
As I went musing on a rune of roses,
Which in her hour, the pale, soft moon discloses.
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Then said my voices: “Wherefore strive or run,
On dusty highways ever, a vain race?
The long night cometh, starless, void of sun,
What light shall serve thee like her golden face?”
For I had pondered on a rune of roses,
And knew some secrets which the moon discloses.
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“Yea,” said I, “for her eyes are pure and sweet
As lilies, and the fragrance of her hair
Is many laurels; and it is not meet
To run for shadows when the prize is here”;
And I went reading in that rune of roses
Which to her votaries the moon discloses.
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