Before the Mirror

(VERSES WRITTEN UNDER A PICTURE.) INSCRIBED TO J. A. WHISTLER. I.     White rose in red rose-garden     Is not so white;     Snowdrops that plead for pardon     And pine for fright     Because the hard East blows     Over their maiden rows     Grow not as this face grows from pale to bright.     Behind the veil, forbidden,     Shut up from sight,     Love, is there sorrow hidden,     Is there delight?     Is joy thy dower or grief,     White rose of weary leaf,     Late rose whose life is brief, whose loves are light?     Soft snows that hard winds harden     Till each flake bite     Fill all the flowerless garden     Whose flowers took flight     Long since when summer ceased,     And men rose up from feast,     And warm west wind grew east, and warm day night. II.     Come snow, come wind or thunder     High up in air,     I watch my face, and wonder     At my bright hair;     Nought else exalts or grieves     The rose at heart, that heaves     With love of her own leaves and lips that pair.     She knows not loves that kissed her     She knows not where.     Art thou the ghost, my sister,     White sister there,     Am I the ghost, who knows?     My hand, a fallen rose,     Lies snow-white on white snows, and takes no care.     I cannot see what pleasures     Or what pains were;     What pale new loves and treasures     New years will bear;     What beam will fall, what shower,     What grief or joy for dower;     But one thing knows the flower; the flower is fair. III.     Glad, but not flushed with gladness,     Since joys go by;     Sad, but not bent with sadness,     Since sorrows die;     Deep in the gleaming glass     She sees all past things pass,     And all sweet life that was lie down and lie.     There glowing ghosts of flowers     Draw down, draw nigh;     And wings of swift spent hours     Take flight and fly;     She sees by formless gleams,     She hears across cold streams,     Dead mouths of many dreams that sing and sigh.     Face fallen and white throat lifted,     With sleepless eye     She sees old loves that drifted,     She knew not why,     Old loves and faded fears     Float down a stream that hears     The flowing of all mens tears beneath the sky.