Page:The Mystery of Choice - Chambers.djvu/298

286

The painted bream may swim the stream— &emsp;I'll cast no line to-day, pardi! In vain the river-ripples gleam, &emsp;In vain the thrushes' minstrelsy. Vain is the wind that whispers, "Lo! Thy fish are waiting—Angler, go!"

Will you forgive if I forgive? Life is too sad, I think, to live Alone, and dream and smoke and fish; I'll say "Forgive" first—if you wish?

For at that word, the Sorcery Of Love shall change the earth and sky To Paradise, with cherubim Instead of birds on every limb.

Rivers shall sing our rhapsody; The vaulted forest, tree by tree, High hung with tapestry, shall glow With golden pillars all a-row.

And down the gilded forest aisle Shy throngs of violets shall smile And kiss your feet from tree to tree While blue-bells droop in courtesy.

And if the sun incarnadine The clouds—green leaves shall be your screen;