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Lyrics of Love and Laughter Our fingers clasped, and dragging me a pace, You struggled up. It is a bitter Cup, That now for naught, you turn away your face. I shall remember this for aye and aye. Whate'er may come, Although my lips are dumb, My spirit holds you to that yesterday. IN THE TENTS OF AKBAR. IN the tents of Akbar Are dole and grief to-day, For the flower of all the Indies Has gone the silent way. In the tents of Akbar Are emptiness and gloom, And where the dancers gather, The silence of the tomb. 164