DEEM YOU THE ROSES....
Deem you the roses taste no pleasure
Unfolding hour by hour
Toward, through starlit peace and sunny leisure,
Their sharpest moment, when they dower
This great green world, this rustling place,
Active in music, light, and grace,
With their hid hearts, their golden treasure,
Odours so deep they overpower?
See how, hazed in the sunny weather,
The silken roses swim,
Nodding heads frail as a high cloud's feather,
Expressing Joy in Beauty's Hymn.
And, hark! from many a hidden face
Echoes I hear through silver space:
The Morning Stars that sing together,
And the delighting Seraphim!
Lawford,
Early Summer, 1916.
THE PASSION
Those whose Love, unborn to sight,
Never did itself disclose
Save in water's cry; a rose;
Meteor furrowing the night;
Mote of any turning ray;
Pipe of bird mid sunset's flush;
Rain stilled, leaves flame-wet, and hush
Of a rainbow's fire and spray;
Any straight road leads afar
'Cross a hill-brow—What's beyond?
Seven hung notes of music fond;
Seven dark poplars, one white star;