Ambergris

AMBERGRIS 117 FROM RODIN IN RIME Tete de Femme (Musee du Luxembourg) It shall be said, when all is done, The last line written, the last mountain Climbed, the last look upon the sun Taken, the last star in the fountain Shattered, that you and I were one. What shall they say, who come apace After us, heedless, gallant ? Seeing Our statues, hearing of our race Heroic tales, half-doubted, being So far beyond a rime to trace. What shall they say ? For secret we Have held our love, and holy. Splendour Of light, and music of the sea, And eyes and heart serene and tender, With kisses mingled utterly These were our ways. And who shall know ? What warrior bard our nuptial glories Shall sing ? Historic shall we go Down through our country’s golden stories ? Shall lovers whisper “ Even so As he loved her do I love you ? ” So much they shall know, surely ; never The truth, how lofty and fresh as dew Our love began, abode for ever : They cannot know us through and through. We have exceeded all the past. The future shall not build another.