Page:Songs of the Springtides - Swinburne (1880).pdf/142

 Bright round the brows of banished age had shone In vision flushed with truth The rosy glory of youth On streets and woodlands where in days long gone Sweet love sang light and loud and deep and dear: And far the trumpets of the dreadful year Had pealed and wailed in darkness: last arose The song of children, kindling as a rose At breath of sunrise, born Of the red flower of morn Whose face perfumes deep heaven with odorous light And thrills all through the wings of souls in flight Close as the press of children at His knee Whom if the high priest see,