Labor and the Angel

by Duncan Campbell Scott

Four viols build the perfect cube of sound;

A path beside the rosy barberry hedge,

Leads to the cool of water under spray,

Leads to the fountain-echoing ivied wall;

Pedestaled there, flecked with the linden shadows,

A guardian statue carved in purest stone,

Love and Mnemosyne; Mnemosyne

Mothering the Truant to an all-cherishing breast,

The wells of lore deepening her eyes, would speak—

But Love hath laid his hand upon her lips.