184 GOLD AND CRIMSON.
Making humble confession And late-learned concession, That Earth had been wise in her fear.
��GOLD AND CRIMSON.
SWEET September idleness ! O castle-wall in Spain ! O leaves of gold and crimson,
Wet with November rain ! How many days have come and gone
Since you, and I, and Fate,
Despatched two tiny ventures out
With only Hope for freight?
Two maple leaves one forest-gold,
And one the sunset red We flung upon the valley-stream,
And watched them as they sped. Close to the shore they fluttered down,
Each pretty Dryad boat, Made mystical by rite and spell-
Your life and mine afloat.
Amid the shadows for a while
They glided still and slow, Until a current s rippled edge
Caught them and bid them go. The golden craft stole silently
Around the island shore,