Page:Studies in Song - Swinburne (1880).djvu/34

 And honied as their harvest, that endears The toil of flowery days; And smiling perfect praise Hailed his one brother mateless else of peers: Whom we that hear not him For length of date grown dim Hear, and the heart grows glad of grief that hears; And harshest heights of sorrowing hours, Like snows of Alpine April, melt from tears to flowers.

Therefore to him the shadow of death was none, The darkness was not, nor the temporal tomb: And multitudinous time for him was one, Who bade before his equal seat of doom Rise and stand up for judgment in the sun