Page:Poems, Volume 2, Coates, 1916.djvu/53

Rh Very gently smiled the angel,

Dark-browed, with the look celestial:

I am Love,—thyself hast named me;

Yet thou fearest! Lo! I leave thee

Till as now thou come to find me."

Once again the man, at sunrise,

Journeyed forth,—his step less buoyant,—

Passing over fields new-wakened,

Where the dew lay on the blossoms

Like to softly gleaming opals.

Once again Earth, fresh from slumber,

In the early light and tender

Wore her green and mystic beauty;

Yet his heart sang not within him

As the birds sang in the branches.

Onward still, without impatience,

Through a world whose charm half pained him,

Journeying,—behold!—the river

And the long-forgotten angel—

Dark-browed, with the look celestial!

As of old, the pilgrim started,

And his pale cheek flushed with anger: