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. L’ENVOI. 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!