[Astræa]
Since I avail no more, O men! with you,
I will go back unto the gods content;
For they recall me, long with earth inblent,
Lest lack of faith divinity undo.
I served you truly while I dreamed you true,
And golden pains with sovereign pleasure spent:
But now, farewell! I take my sad ascent,
With failure over all I nursed and knew.
Are ye unwise, who would not let me love you?
Or must too bold desires be quieted?
Only to ease you, never to reprove you,
I will go back to heaven with heart unfed:
Yet sisterly I turn, I bend above you,
To kiss (ah, with what sorrow!) all my dead.
[The Yew-Tree]
As I came homeward
At merry Christmas,
By the old Church tower
Through the Churchyard grass,
And saw there circled
With graves all about,
The Yew-tree paternal,
The Yew-tree devout,
Then this hot life-blood
Was hard to endure,
O Death! so I loved thee,
The sole love sure.
For stars slip in heaven,
They wander, they break;
But under the Yew-tree
Not one heartache.
And ours, what failure
Renewed and avowed!
But ah, the long-buried
Is leal, and is proud.
* * * * * *
At eve, o'erlooking
The smooth chilly tide,
With age-hidden meaning
The Yew-tree sighed,
By the square grey tower,
In the short grey grass,
As I came homeward
At merry Christmas.