Page:A channel passage and other poems (IA channelpassageot00swinrich).pdf/124

 The daisy by his ploughshare cleft, The lips of women loved and left, The griefs and joys that weave the weft Of human time, With craftsman's cunning, keen and deft, He carved in rhyme.

But Chaucer's daisy shines a star Above his ploughshare's reach to mar, And mightier vision gave Dunbar More strenuous wing To hear around all sins that are Hell dance and sing.

And when such pride and power of trust In song's high gift to arouse from dust Death, and transfigure love or lust Through smiles or tears In golden speech that takes no rust From cankering years,