What does it matter
Though wealth pass by,
Where follies flatter
And red lips lie—
Though cloud shades darken
The spring-time sheen,
And dull threads mingle
Life’s woof between—
Which winds blow whither
O’er land and sea—
What does it matter
To you and me?
Here at the door of
Our Peace-thatched cot
Cosmea nods, and
Forget-me-not
Seems to say from
Its eyes of blue,
“Life is fairest
Where hearts are true!”
And far beyond, where
The world is wide,
Where wrecked lives drift on
An ebbing tide,
There is a garland
A queen may wear,
Of sweet boronia
And maidenhair.
Never grey thyme, or
A spray of rue
Tarnish the garland
I’ve twined for you!
Let love-fires light, in
Each fragrant gem
A setting fair for
Your diadem!
What though its petals
May, one by one,
Pale grow and pass with
The mid-day’s sun—
Though velvet fingers
At midnight’s hush
Shall paint your tresses
With silvered brush—
Though shadows creep, and
The earth grows wan,
Our love will last
As the years roll on!
With hand in hand, with
Our hearts that beat
Time to the music
Of twinkling feet—
Wrapped in a dream that
Will live and last
Into the night
When the day is past—
Though sails be set for
The shoreless sea—
What will it matter
To you and me?
[Decoration: Man with swag walking away]