Page:Poems, Meynell, 1921.djvu/41

Builders of Ruins The stars that 'twixt the rise and fall, Like relic-seers, shall one by one Stand musing o'er our empty hall; And setting moons shall brood upon The frescoes of our inward wall.

And when some midsummer shall be, Hither will come some little one (Dusty with bloom of flowers is he), Sit on a ruin i' the late long sun, And think, one foot upon his knee.

And where they wrought, these lives of ours, So many-worded, many-souled, A North-west wind will take the towers, And dark with colour, sunny and cold, Will range alone among the flowers.

And here or there, at our desire, The little clamorous owl shall sit Through her still time; and we aspire To make a law (and know not it) Unto the life of a wild briar.

Our purpose is distinct and dear, Though from our open eyes 'tis hidden. Thou, Time to come, shalt make it clear, Undoing our work; we are children chidden With pity and smiles of many a year.

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