Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/271



white roses on one tree, Seven white loaves of blameless leaven, Seven white sails on one soft sea, Seven white swans on one lake’s lee, Seven white flowerlike stars in heaven, All are types unmeet to be For a birthday’s crown of seven.

Not the radiance of the roses, Not the blessing of the bread, Not the breeze that ere day grows is Fresh for sails and swans, and closes Wings above the sun’s grave spread, When the starshine on the snows is Sweet as sleep on sorrow shed,

Nothing sweetest, nothing best, Holds so good and sweet a treasure