William Wilfred Campbell, comp. The Oxford Book of Canadian Verse. 1913. | | Illusion | By Nicholas Flood Davin (18431901) |
| (From Eos, an Epic of the Dawn) ILLUSION makes the better part of life. | |
Happy self-conjurers, deceived, we win | |
Delight, and, ruled by fancy, live in dreams; | |
The mood, the hour, the standpoint, rules the scene; | |
The past, the present, the to-be, weave charms; | 5 |
White-flashing memorys fleet footsteps fly, | |
And all the borders of her way are pied | |
With flowers full glad een when their roots touch quick | |
With pain. With tears upon his dimpled cheek | |
Forth steps the infant Joy and, laughing, mocks | 10 |
At care. In time smiles play upon the cheek | |
Of pale Regret, who grows transformed, and stands | |
A pensive queen, more fair than boisterous Mirth. | |
The present s odorous with leaves of trees | |
Long dead, and dead defacing woods and thorns, | 15 |
And past the cloud that glowered, the blast that smote, | |
And out from never-to-be-trodden days | |
Hope smiles, and airs from dawns were never doomed | |
To see, come rich with fragrance, fresh with power, | |
Profuse of promises of golden days, | 20 |
And join the necromancy of the past, | |
Mingling the magic which makes up our lives. | | | |
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