Page:Poems Greenwell.djvu/189

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VII.
177
Stood forth in light apparelled, and took
Its hue and semblance even from the look
They cast upon it; yet, thus venturing,
I speak not wisely,—nay, these only took
Their pristine hues—their colour that forsook
And fled, when Man with Death upon his track
Went woful forth from Eden's gate, came back
When Eden's tongue was spoken! and the smile
That Nature 'neath her Mother's brow of care
Hides in her loving eyes, dawned bland and fair
To see her children's gladness; so the while
They sat beneath one crown, upon one throne;
And wrapped within the purple, o'er their own
Stretched forth the sceptre; never dial flung
Its warning shadow, never iron tongue
Knelled forth the busy hours;[1] they took no heed
Of Time or of his flight, nor had they need:
For they together with the world were young,
And ever would be! Life in very deed
Held back for them no Future, and the Past
Lay calm before them in a mirror glassed
To feed sweet fancies, showing how it led
To this bright now; so all things ministered
And wrought their bidding; here they deemed it well,
Like her who said, "I sit a Queen," to dwell
In joy for evermore; but change befell.

      They parted but they loved;
How could these part? what sword could be in life
To sever hearts like these? Methinks its strife

  1. Note C.