Ballade Of Love's Cloister

Had I the gold that some so vainly spend,     For my lost loves a temple would I raise,     A shrine for each dear name: there should ascend     Incense for ever, and hymns of golden praise;     And I would live the remnant of my days,     Where hallowed windows cast their painted gleams,     At prayer before each consecrated face,     Kneeling within that cloister of old dreams.     And each fair altar, like a priest, I'd tend,     Trimming the tapers to a constant blaze,     And to each lovely and beloved friend     Garlands I'd bring, and virginal soft sprays     From April's bodice, and moon-breasted May's,     And there should be a sound for ever of streams     And birds 'mid happy leaves in that still place, -     Kneeling within that cloister of old dreams.     O'er missals of hushed memories would I bend,     And thrilling scripts of bosom-scented phrase,     Telling of love that never hath an end,     And sacred relics of wonder-working grace,     Strands of bright hair, and tender webs of lace,     Press to my lips - until the Present seems     The Past again to my ensorcelled gaze, -     Kneeling within that cloister of old dreams.     ENVOI     Princesses unforgot, your lover lays     His heart upon your altars, and he deems     He treads again the fair love-haunted ways -     Kneeling within that cloister of old dreams.