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The Spike: or, Victoria College Review, September 1923

Heracleitus

Heracleitus

An old Ionian song, sung sadly long ago
From Death's pale orchard closes, where sorrowful spices blow:
It mourns the death of a friend, his empty fields and byre,
The ashes cold on his hearth, the flame on his funeral pyre.

I, too, oh Heracleitus, have seen in a fading fire
The caravels of Ephesus, the laden ships of Tyre;
Fire, and its measures changing, in stars and flowers, you said,
In fleeting things and dying things—lo, you too now are dead.

R.F.F.