Think Not, O Lilias

By Nora May French

Think not, O Lilias, that the love of
    this night will endure in the sun.. Hast
thou beheld fungi, white, evil, rosy-lined,
poisonous, shrivel in the eyes of day?
   In this wilderness of strange hearts it is
not thine alone that concerns me.  Many
brave hearts of men are more to me than
thine.  The hearts of men breathe deeply.
As for thy heart, it runs from me, it is
Quicksilver, it does not concern me greatly.

Footnote reads: "Think Not, O Lilias." These prose lines were recalled out of a dream. They are included here because of their singular beauty.