A Ballade of Jakko Hill

One moment bid the horses wait,
   Since tiffin is not laid till three,
Below the upward path and straight
  You climbed a year ago with me.
Love came upon us suddenly
   And loosed—an idle hour to kill—
A headless, armless armory
  That smote us both on Jakko Hill. 

Ah Heaven! we would wait and wait
   Through Time and to Eternity!
Ah Heaven! we could conquer Fate
  With more than Godlike constancy
I cut the date upon a tree—
  Here stand the clumsy figures still:
“10-7-85, A.D.”
   Damp with the mist of Jakko Hill. 

What came of high resolve and great,
  And until Death fidelity!
Whose horse is waiting at your gate?
   Whose ’rickshaw-wheels ride over me?
No Saint’s, I swear; and—let me see
   To-night what names your programme fill—
We drift asunder merrily,
   As drifts the mist on Jakko Hill. 

Princess, behold our ancient state
   Has clean departed; and we see
’Twas Idleness we took for Fate
  That bound light bonds on you and me.
Amen! Here ends the comedy
  Where it began in all good will;
Since Love and Leave together flee
  As driven mist on Jakko Hill!

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