Page:Poems (1915) G K Chesterton.djvu/61



ITH leaves below and leaves above,

And groping under tree and tree,

I found the home of my true love,

Who is a wandering home for me.

Who, lost in ruined worlds aloof,

Bore the dread dove wings like a roof:

Who, past the last lost stars of space

Carried the fire-light on her face.

Who, passing as in idle hours,

Tamed the wild weeds to garden flowers;

Stroked the strange whirlwind's whirring wings,

And made the comets homely things.

Where she went by upon her way

The dark was dearer than the day;

Where she paused in heaven or hell,

The whole world's tale had ended well.