Two faces haunt the stillnesses of sleep.
The first is of a woman I have known
Past years, in many lives, as on a throne
Within my heart, for whom I daily keep
Fast and high vigil while deep calls to deep;
You also stir me, like wind-voices blown
Through woodland hollows where I walk alone
When twilight and its shadows slowly creep;
And I am torn‘ twixt love of you and her —
My dear Dream-Lady of some long ago —
Till past and present, pausing to confer,
Determine what I hardly dare to know:
The faces I have loved and love are one —
How you have followed me from sun to sun!