Two Lyrics by Elinor Wylie

We are so tired, and perhaps tomorrow 
Will never come; be fugitive awhile 
From tears, and let the dancing drtnk your sorrow
As it has drunk the colour of your smile. 

Your face is like a mournful pearl, my darling; 
Go, set a rose of rouge upon its white, 
And stop your ears against the tiger-snarling 
Where lightning stripes the thunder of the night. 

Now falling, falling, feather after feather, 
The music spreads a softness on the ground; 
Now for an instant we are held together 
Hidden within a swinging mist of sound. 

Forget these frustrate and unhappy lovers; 
Forget that he is sad and she is pale; 
Come, let us dream the little death that hovers 
Pensive as heaven in a cloudy veil.

Let us walk in the white snow
  In a soundless space;
With footsteps quiet and slow,
  At a tranquil pace,
Under veils of white lace.

I shall go shod in silk,
  And you in wool,
White as white cow's milk,
  More beautiful
Than the breast of a gull.

We shall walk through the still town
  In a windless peace;
We shall step upon white down,
  Upon silver fleece,
Upon softer than these.

We shall walk in velvet shoes:
  Wherever we go
Silence will fall like dews
  On [white]1 silence below.
We shall walk in the snow.