IV

nd in this garden sloping to the sea
I dwelt (it seemed) to watch a pageant pass,—
Great Kings, their armour strong with iron and brass,
Young Queens, with yellow hair bound wonderfully.
For love's sake, and because of love's decree,
Most went, I knew; and so the flowers and grass
Knew my steps also: yet I wept Alas,
Deeming the garden surely lost to me.
But as the days went over, and still our feet
Trod the warm, even places, I knew well
(For I, as they, followed the close-heard beat
Of Love's wide wings who was her sentinel)
That here had Beauty built her citadel
And only we should reach her mercy-seat.

V

nd ye, are ye not with me now alway?—
Thy raiment, Glauce, shall be my attire!
East of the Sun I, too, seek my desire!
My kisses, also, quicken the well-wrought clay!
And thou, Alcestis, lest my little day
Be done, art glad to die! Upon my pyre,
O Brynhild, let thine ashes feed the fire!
And, O thou Wood Sun, pray for me, I pray!
Yea, ye are mine! Yet there remaineth one
Who maketh Summer-time of all the year,
Whose glory darkeneth the very sun.
For thee my sword was sharpened and my spear,
For thee my least poor deed was dreamed and done,
O Love, O Queen, O Golden Guenevere!

VI

hen, suddenly, I was awake. Dead things
Were all about me and the year was dead.
Save where the birches grew, all leaves were shed
And nowhere fell the sound of song or wings.
The fields I deemed were graves of worshipped Kings
Had lost their bloom; no honey-bee now fed
Therein, and no white daisy bowed its head
To harken to the wind's love-murmurings.
Yet, by my dream, I know henceforth for me
This time of year shall hold some unknown grace
When the leaves fall, and shall be sanctified:
As April only comes for memory
Of him who kissed the veil from Beauty's face
That we might see, and passed at Easter-tide.