The Clock of the Years

                And the Spirit said,
"I can make the clock of the years go backward,
But am loth to stop it where you will."
                And I cried, "Agreed
                To that. Proceed:
                It’s better than dead!"

                He answered, "Peace;
And called her up—at last before me;
Then younger, younger she freshed, to the year
                I first had known
                Her woman-grown,
                And I cried, "Cease!—

                "Thus far is good—
It is enough—let her stay thus always!"
But alas for me—He shook his head:
                No stop was there;
                And she waned child-fair,
                And to babyhood.

                Still less in mien
To my great sorrow became she slowly,
And smalled till she was nought at all
                In his checkless griff;
                And it was as if
                She had never been.

                "Better," I plained,
"She were dead as before!" The memory of her
Had lived in me; but it cannot now!
                And coldly his voice:
                "It was your choice
                To mar the ordained."

  1916.