There dwells one bright Immortal on the earth,
Not known of all men. They who know her not
Go hence forgotten from the House of Life,
Sons of oblivion.
To her once came
That awful shape which all men hold in dread,
And she with steadfast eyes regarded him,
With heavenly eyes half sorrowful, and then
Smiled, and passed by. And who art thou, he cried,
That looked on me and art not appalled,
That seem'st no fray He, yet deftest Death?
Not thus do Mortals face me! What art thou?
But she no answer made: silent she stood;
A while in holy meditation stood,
And then moved on thro' the enamoured air,
Silent, with luminous uplifted brows—
Time's sister, Daughter of Eternity,
Death's deathless enemy, whom men name Love.
— in The Century.
