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The Spike: or, Victoria College Review, October 1906

Carpite Florem

page 59

Carpite Florem.

Lest any day should redden in the West
Whose every portion yielded not life's grapes
In purple clusters, for Youth's vintage prest,—
Think, while the pleasant, circling sunlight shapes
One shadow on the dial, Time escapes
Your fingers, and the grey years stride apace
On Youth, until it be forgotten grace.

Not always will the world be glad with Spring—
The Spring you squander, recking little how;
Not always will the Aprils largess bring:
Ah, take your pleasure while the Gods allow!
Already Night has twined this hour's dead brow:
The days are waters of a ceaseless stream,
And not one cupful can your hand redeem!

Oh, cull life's kernel, since the husks be base,—
Full little tide is here wherein to cull—
For we, like Atalanta, run a race,
And at the winning-post there lies a skull.
And think not in the aftertime to lull
Regrets for lost red daysprings—you shall learn
The first full flush can never more return.

Lo, I who sing know where the singers' lips
Are scent of rose and breath of violet:
I know in what brief course our fellowships
Are with worn faces that the wrinkles net.
Needs must we all the bloom forego, forget,—
O days and hours, and cold lips that were red!
Pluto has all whereto our souls were wed.

Who knoweth whither stealthy Charon rows ?
The Gods list not the burden of our prayer,
On far Olympus where the sunlight glows;
And it were well vain questionings to forbear.
But to the lees life's wine is red and rare!
O drain full measure: pluck the blowing flower
Before blown petals wilter, past your power!

S. S. M.