A FLOWER SONG OF ANGIOLA.

193

"Sweetheart, save me and you,

Where has the summer kist

Flowers of as fair a hue,-
Turkis or Amethyst ?"

Therewith I laughed aloud,

Spake on this wise,

"O little flowers so proud,

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,

Sweeteneth heaven.

"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,—

"Saying, 'He sendeth us, He the most dutiful,

Meetly he endeth us,

Maiden most beautiful!

Let us get rest of you,

Sweet, in your breast ;

Die, being prest of you,
Die, being blest."

A SONG OF ANGIOLA IN HEAVEN.

195

A SONG OF ANGIOLA IN HEAVEN.

FLO

"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 through,
Tells to the Rose.

For lo, a garden-place I found,

Well filled of leaves, and stilled of sound,
Well flowered, with red fruit marvellous;
And 'twixt the shining trunks would flit
Tall knights and silken maids, or sit

With faces bent and amorous ;-
There, in the heart thereof, and crowned
With woodbine and amaracus,
My Love I found.

Alone she walked,-ah, well I wis,
My heart leapt up for joy of this !—

Then when I called to her her name,The name, that like a pleasant thing Men's lips remember, murmuring,

At once across the sward she came,Full fain she seemed, my own dear maid, And asked ever as 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,
And Time was bound.

"This is well done," she said,-"in thee,
O Love, that thou art come to me,
To this green garden glorious;
Now truly shall our life be sped
In joyance and all good lihed,

For here all things are fair to us,
And none with burden is oppressed,
And none is poor or piteous,-
For here is Rest.