WHERE the thistle lifts a purple crown
Six foot out of the turf,
And the harebell shakes on the
O the breath of the distant surf!
The hills look over on the South,
And southward dreams the sea;
And, with the sea-breeze
hand in hand,
Came innocence and she.
Where mid the gorse the raspberry
Red for the gatherer springs,
Two children did we stray
Wise, idle, childish things.
She listend with big-lippd surprise,
Breast-deep mid flower and spine:
Her skin was like a
grape, whose veins
Run snow instead of wine.
She knew not those sweet words she spake,
Nor knew her own sweet way;
But theres never
a bird, so sweet a song
Throngd in whose throat that day!
O, there were flowers in Storrington
On the turf and on the spray;
But the sweetest flower on
Was the Daisy-flower that day!
Her beauty smoothd earths furrowd face!
She gave me tokens three:
A look, a word of her
And a wild raspberry.
A berry red, a guileless look,
A still word,strings of sand!
And yet they made my wild, wild
Fly down to her little hand.
For, standing artless as the air,
And candid as the skies,
She took the berries with her hand,
the love with her sweet eyes.
The fairest things have fleetest end:
Their scent survives their close,
But the roses scent is
To him that loved the rose!
She looked a little wistfully,
Then went her sunshine way:
The seas eye had a mist on it,
the leaves fell from the day.
She went her unremembering way,
She went, and left in me
The pang of all the partings gone,
partings yet to be.
She left me marvelling why my soul
Was sad that she was glad;
At all the sadness in the
The sweetness in the sad.
Still, still I seemd to see her, still
Look up with soft replies,
And take the berries with her hand,
the love with her lovely eyes.
Nothing begins, and nothing ends,
That is not paid with moan;
For we are born in others pain,
perish in our own.
The Kingdom of God is within you.
O WORLD invisible, we view thee,
O world intangible, we touch thee,
O world unknowable, we
Inapprehensible, we clutch thee!
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