"Sweetheart, save me and you, Therewith I laughed aloud, Have ye seen eyes Change through the blue in them,- Change till the mere Loving that grew in them Turned to a tear? "Flowers, ye are bright of hue, Delicate, sweet; Flowers, and the sight of you Lightens men's feet; Yea, but her worth to me, Flowerets, even, Sweetening the earth to me, "This, then, O Flowers, I sing; God, when He made ye, Made yet a fairer thing Making my Lady;Fashioned her tenderly, Giving all weal to her ; Girdle ye slenderly, Go to her, kneel to her, A SONG OF ANGIOLA IN HEAVEN "Vale, unica!" LOWERS,-that have died upon my Sweet, Lulled by the rhythmic dancing beat Of her young bosom under you,— Now will I show you such a thing As never, through thick buds of Spring, Betwixt the daylight and the dew, The Bird whose being no man knows— The voice that waketh all night throughTells to the Rose. For lo, a garden-place I found, Alone she walked,-ah, well I wis, The name, that like a pleasant thing At once across the sward she came,- "Where hast thou stayed?" "Where hast thou stayed?" she asked as though The long years were an hour ago; But I spake not, nor answered, For, looking in her eyes, I saw, A light not lit of mortal law; And in her clear cheek's changeless red, And sweet, unshaken speaking found That in this place the Hours were dead, "This is well done," she said," in thee O Love, that thou art come to me, To this green garden glorious; For here all things are fair to us, "No formless Future blurs the sky; Betwixt the Coming and the Past At "Heaven" she ceased;-and lifted up With rounded mouth, and eyes aglow; The lit leaves laughed,-sky shook, and lo I swooned, and woke. - And now, O Flowers, -Ye that indeed are dead,- For of a surety, now, I see, My Lady, verily, awaiteth me; I am right fain to make Out from my pain a pillow, and to take |