I NEGLECTED to appraise your worth being blindly sure of my possession. The days followed each other and the nights carrying your offerings to my feet. I looked at them through the corner of my eyes as they were being sent to my storehouse. April's honeysuckles added their scent to your gifts, the full moon of the autumn night touched them with its glimmer. Often you poured the flood of your dark tresses upon my lap and your eyes swam with tears while you said: My tribute to you, my king, is pitifully meagre; I have failed to give you more, not having any more to give. The days follow each other and the nights but you are no longer here today. I come to open at last my storehouse, and take up the chain of the jewels, that came from your hands on my neck. My pride that remained indifferent kisses the dust where you left your footprints. Today I gain you truly for with my sorrow I have paid the price of your love.
THE DAY WAS when I did not keep myself in readiness for thee; and entering my heart unbidden even as one of the common crowd, unknown to me, my king, thou didst press the signet of eternity upon many a fleeting moment of my life. And to-day when by chance I light upon them and see thy signature, I find they have lain scattered in the dust mixed with the memory of joys and sorrows of my trivial days forgotten. Thou didst not turn in contempt from my childish play among dust, and the steps that I heard in my playroom are the same that are echoing from star to star.
