Lays and Legends (Second Series). Nesbit Edith

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Lays and Legends (Second Series) - Nesbit Edith

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I laid it in heaps on the ground

      With grass and blossoms and leaves.

      I gathered the summer in sheaves,

      And pale, rare roses a few,

      And spread out a carpet meet

      For the touch of my lady's feet.

      I waited; the wood was still;

      Only one little brown bird

      On a hazel swayed and stirred

      With the impulse of his song;

      And I waited, and time was long.

      Then I heard a step on the grass

      In the path where the others pass,

      And a voice like a voice in a dream;

      And I saw a glory, a gleam,

      A flash of white through the green

      (Her arms and her gown are white);

      And the summer sighed her name

      As she and the sunshine came:

      O sun and blue sky and delight!

      O eyes and lips of my queen!

      What was done there or said

      No one will ever know,

      For nobody saw or heard

      Save one little, brown, bright bird

      Who swayed on a twig overhead,

      And he will never betray;

      But all who pass by that way,

      As they near the spot where we lay

      Among the blossoms and grass

      Where the leaves and the ferns lay thick

      (Though it lies out of reach, out of sight

      Of the path where the world may pass),

      Feel their heart and their pulse beat quick

      In a measure that rhymes with the leaves and flowers,

      That rhymes with the summer and sun,

      With the lover to win or won,

      With the wild-flower crown of delight,

      The crown of love that was ours.

      THE GARDEN

      My garden was lovely to see,

      For all things fair,

      Sweet flowers and blossoms rare,

      I had planted there.

      There were pinks and lilies and stocks,

      Sweet gray and white stocks, and rose and rue,

      And clematis white and blue,

      And pansies and daisies and phlox.

      And the lawn was trim, and the trees were shady,

      And all things were ready to greet my lady

      On the Life's-love-crowning day

      When she should come

      To her lover's home,

      To give herself to me.

      I saw the red of the roses —

      The royal roses that bloomed for her sake.

      "They shall lie," I said, "where my heart's hopes lie:

      They shall droop on her heart and die."

      I dreamed in the orchard-closes:

      "'Tis here we will walk in the July days,

      When the paths and the lawn are ablaze;

      We will walk here, and look at our life's great bliss:

      And thank God for this".

      I leaned where the jasmine white

      Wreathed all my window round:

      "Here we will lean,

      I and my queen,

      And look out on the broad moonlight.

      For there shall be moonlight – bright —

      On my wedding-night."

      She never saw the flowers

      That were hers from their first sweet hours.

      The roses, the pinks, and the dark heartsease

      Died in my garden, ungathered, forlorn.

      Only the jasmine, the lilies, the white, white rose,

      They were gathered – to honour and sorrow born.

      They lay round her, touched her close.

      The jasmine stars – white stars, that about our window

      their faint light shed,

      Lay round her head.

      And the white, white roses lay on her breast,

      And a long, white lily lay in her hand.

      They lie by her – rest with her rest;

      But I, unhonoured, unblest —

      I stand outside,

      In the ruined garden solitude —

      Where she never stood —

      On the trim green sod

      Which she never trod;

      And the red, red roses grow and blow, —

      As if any one cared

      How they fared!

      And the gate of Eden is shut; and I stand

      And see the Angel with flaming sword —

      Life's pitiless Lord —

      And I know I never may pass.

      Alas! alas!

      O Rose! my rose!

      I never may reach the place where she grows,

      A rose in the garden of God.

      PRAYER UNDER GRAY SKIES

      O God, let there be rain!

      Rain, till this sky of gray

      That covers us every day

      Be utterly wept away,

      Let there be rain, we pray,

      Till the sky be washed blue again

      Let there be rain!

      O God, let there be rain,

      For the sky hangs heavy with pain,

      And we, who walk upon earth,

      We find our days not of worth;

      None blesses the day of our birth,

      We question of death's day in vain, —

      Let there be rain!

      O God, let there be rain

      Till the full-fed earth complain.

      Yea, though it sweep away

      The seeds sown yesterday

      And beat down the blossoms of May

      And ruin the border gay:

      In storm let this gray noon wane,

      Let there be rain!

      O God, let there be rain

      Till the rivers rise a-main!

      Though the waters go over us quite

      And cover us up from the light

      And whelm us away in the night

      And the flowers of our life be slain,

      O God, let there be rain!

      O

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