Page:Poems Greenwell.djvu/200

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188
TO * *.
        And loath its clasps to close
We hung above that Book; we kissed its leaves,
And marvelled at their fragrance, till a rose
Dropt from them, gathered once when summer-eves
Were kindest, it had withered there—the bloom
Had fallen from it, yet, within its tomb
It strewed with odours all its winding sheet—
Fragrant in life, among the dead how sweet!

        I held thee by the hand;
The evening deepened round us, still we read.
Evoking those old spells, till from the Dead
We summoned up our Youth and saw it stand
Before us beautiful! upon its brow
Sat pain and sweetness mingling, even now
I know not which was victor; then we took
Our counsel with the pages of the Book
To reckon with it harshly, but this dust
Turned on us sudden w4th the look of yore—
And of the wealth it took away, the trust
It broke with us, all question we forbore.

        But even as a child,
Lured by a bird's clear singing, makes a track
Within the wood's deep heart, did fancies wild
And lovely draw us further, further back;
Until, 'mid windings green and lone we felt
Our feet were deep in flowers we loved before
Those grassy paths brake sudden, and we dwelt
In Arcady no more!