Eyes of Youth | Page 7

me, the sun arose in splendour;
I saw the roses spread

their petals sweet,
And thought that all the world must see in wonder

The wings upon our feet.
You touched me, and a wave of passionate longing
Flooded my soul
until it swooned away,
And knew no more the sunlight from the
shadow--
If it were night or day.
We wandered in the shadow of the woodland,
Mute while we looked
into each other's eyes,
And saw as in still pools of darkened water

The wonder of the skies.
No word we spoke. We knew that love had silenced
All that we
wished to speak yet left unsaid;
The bees were humming in the
wild-rose blossoms
Which clustered overhead.
And all that summer day we were together,
Alone with love, yet with
a sword between--
The flaming sword that stands between us ever,

And all that might have been.
Mist gathered white at evening in the valleys,
And slowly grew the
dusk from gold to grey,
While rain-clouds gathered on the low
horizon
Dark at the close of day.
And softly rose a wind from out the darkness,
With scent of flower
and fern and herb and tree,
And in its breath there came a sound of
thunder,
Storm-laden from the sea.
And thus we reached the wicket of the garden;
The wood was full of
sound, the sound of wings;
The scent of lavender brought back
remembrance
Of long-forgotten things.
Though heaven and earth and sky should be forgotten,
Yet of that
hour my soul should bear the trace:
For night fell fast, and in the
deepening shadow
You turned and kissed my face.

CHILDHOOD
A stranger come I to the festival
Thou holdest in the regions of
romance,
Where dragons lurk and elfin spirits dance,
And pearls lie
hid within each rose petal.
What magic changes in life's crystal ball

Shall thus transform earth's dullness at thy glance!
Ride then the wind,
a feather for thy lance,
A pool thy sea, thy heaven a waterfall.
So
shall thy soul to fairy worlds belong,
Where dust is gold and
dew-drops turn to wine;
Remember still the visions that are thine

When sorrow shall disperse that phantom throng;
And dream once
more that thou hast found divine
Love in a flower, and kingdoms in a
song.
LOVE IN IDLENESS
To look at thee, and see the sunlight move
The shadow of the leaves
upon thy face,
Lighting the glory of thy youth and grace
With
golden rays wind-stirred from trees above;
To listen to the rustling of
the grove,
The warblers in the reeds which interlace
The waters of
the pool, and dream a space,
Forgetful of the hours ... this then is love!

Thy passion and thy strength, thy gentleness,
All these are mine.
Who then shall dispossess
My soul of paradise? In truth I learn

More than the world can teach. Oblivion waits,
And distance parts,
and Death annihilates:
But now thy love is all my love's concern.
LOVE'S COUNTERFEIT
By what false spell of what enchanter's wand
Should thy gross fibre
be with love allied?
Unhappy youth, thou callest to thy side
An
unknown shade from some far spirit land;
Thou canst not guess, nor
shalt thou understand,
The waters that thy soul from his divide.
In
place of Love, what alien spirits glide
About thy sleep to answer thy
command?
What blasphemy is this? Thou hast no spell
To call that
heaven-born spirit from the deep,
Or move the stars. What cometh in

his place?
This monstrous fraud which thou hast raised from hell,

Whose arms about thee in the darkness creep?
Light not thy torch,
lest thou shouldst see
his face.

OLIVIA MEYNELL
A GRIEF WITHOUT CHRIST
I sought Him in the trees, and Him I found
In every colour, and in
every sound.
I sought Him in the sky, and He was there,
A living God, breathing
the living air.
I sought Him in my soul--oh, passionate loss!
All that I found was a
forsaken Cross.
THE CROWNING
Whenas we wandered in the summer hours,
My kind love crowned
me with a crown of flowers.
Softly they touched my forehead and my hair;
Gay, sunny, yellow,
and sweet-breathed they were--
Soft flowers and tender hands, gay sun, soft skies;
And sweeter,
tenderer yet, his loving eyes.
Ah! but it should have been with thorns he crowned me,
Who follow
Christ, while cold skies blackened round me.
Dear love, I will accept from you cold frown,
Sharp words, hard
touch, as symbols of His crown.

MAURICE HEALY
IN MEMORIAM
"Lord, teach us how to pray," they said;
And Jesus raised His weary
head,
Bowed by the sorrows of the way,
And taught His children
how to pray.
"Lord, teach me how to pray," I cried;
And Jesus sent you to my side

To make your own the soul I wear
And mould it purer into prayer.
And since your love first lit the way
I find that I have learned to pray;

For, that my soul may benefit,
I pray that you may pray for it.
A BALLAD OF FRIENDSHIP
for two most dear Children
Soured and dimmed and chilled with senility
Hobbled the year to its
uttermost day;
I gave the best of a slender ability,
Seeking to make
a short afternoon gay.
You