Part 3 (1/2)

But always, folded out of sight, The wings were growing strong That were to bear him off in flight Erelong, erelong.

The Shrine

There is no lord within my heart, Left silent as an empty shrine Where rose and myrtle intertwine, Within a place apart.

No G.o.d is there of carven stone To watch with still approving eyes My thoughts like steady incense rise; I dream and weep alone.

But if I keep my altar fair, Some morning I shall lift my head From roses deftly garlanded To find the G.o.d is there.

The Blind

The birds are all a-building, They say the world's a-flower, And still I linger lonely Within a barren bower.

I weave a web of fancies Of tears and darkness spun.

How shall I sing of sunlight Who never saw the sun?

I hear the pipes a-blowing, But yet I may not dance, I know that Love is pa.s.sing, I cannot catch his glance.

And if his voice should call me And I with groping dim Should reach his place of calling And stretch my arms to him,

The wind would blow between my hands For Joy that I shall miss, The rain would fall upon my mouth That his will never kiss.

Love Me

Brown-thrush singing all day long In the leaves above me, Take my love this little song, ”Love me, love me, love me!”

When he harkens what you say, Bid him, lest he miss me, Leave his work or leave his play, And kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!

The Song for Colin

I sang a song at dusking time Beneath the evening star, And Terence left his latest rhyme To answer from afar.

Pierrot laid down his lute to weep, And sighed, ”She sings for me,”

But Colin slept a careless sleep Beneath an apple tree.