Page:The Yellow Book - 06.djvu/327



shall I grow,

When unto earth returned,

In peace I shall be laid

There, where so oft we walked in sun and shade?

Flame-flowers burning as my soul hath burned,

Whitening in passion just as flowers may

Under the fiery sun s consuming ray?

No, no! ah, no!

But so my garden-plot shall be

Sweet set with wilding bloom and grass,

Pale starry flowers there shall arise,

White for my spirit s thought, pale for mine eyes,

That wheresoe'er you thither come or pass,

Then surely shall you know, and feel, and see,

At last, though late, at last all s well with me;

In all my bitter life so sweet a thought,

So dear as this, I have not known—

To rest where singing winds, far-blown

From sea and moor, with singing birds are caught

Amid the fostering grey of apple-trees,