II
watched the slow oncoming of the Fall.
Slowly the leaves fell from the elms, and lay
Along the roadside; and the wind's strange way
Was their way, when they heard the wind's far call.
The crimson vines that clung along the wall
Grew thin as snow that lives on into May;
Grey dawn, grey noon,—all things and hours were grey,
When quietly the darkness covered all.
And while no sunset flamed across the west,
And no great moon rose where the hills were low,
The day passed out as if it had not been:
And so it seemed the year sank to its rest,
Remembering naught, desiring naught,—as though
Early in Spring its young leaves were not green.
III
little while before the Fall was done
A day came when the frail year paused and said:
"Behold! a little while and I am dead;
Wilt thou not choose, of all the old dreams, one?"
Then dwelt I in a garden, where the sun
Shone always, and the roses all were red;
Far off, the great sea slept, and overhead,
Among the robins, matins had begun.
And I knew not at all it was a dream
Only, and that the year was near its close;
Garden and sunshine, robin-song and rose,
The half-heard murmur and the distant gleam
Of all the unvext sea, a little space
Were as a mist above the Autumn's face.
IV
nd in this garden sloping to the sea
I dwelt (it seemed) to watch a pageant pass,—
Great Kings, their armour strong with iron and brass,
Young Queens, with yellow hair bound wonderfully.
For love's sake, and because of love's decree,
Most went, I knew; and so the flowers and grass
Knew my steps also: yet I wept Alas,
Deeming the garden surely lost to me.
But as the days went over, and still our feet
Trod the warm, even places, I knew well
(For I, as they, followed the close-heard beat
Of Love's wide wings who was her sentinel)
That here had Beauty built her citadel
And only we should reach her mercy-seat.
V