Page:Lange - The Blue Fairy Book.djvu/226

There is none may taste of the golden fruit
 Till the golden new times come;
Many a tree shall spring from shoot,
Many a blossom be withered at root,
 Many a song be dumb;
Broken and still shall be many a lute
 Or ever the new times come!

Round and round the tree of gold,
 Round and round dance we,
So doth the great world spin from of old,
Summer and winter, and fire and cold,
Song that is sung, and tale that is told,
Even as we dance, that fold and unfold
 Round the stem of the fairy tree!