Page:Songs and Sonnets (1906).djvu/74



first you came, it was perpetual Spring, Fourfold of rapture flamed in everything, And all abroad the gods went wandering.

Then followed Summer, full, luxuriant; We wrought together, and our days were spent In love's fulfilment and life's sacrament.

'Tis Autumn now, and all that went before— The joy of Spring, the Summer's golden store— We harvest in our hearts to fail no more.

To fail no more? When winter storms must sweep Across the shrines where we were wont to keep Love's sacred tryst, and soon—so soon shall sleep?

Yea, Love, whate'er betide, I know the seed Of what was wrought in faithful love and deed Shall but lie dormant waiting higher need.