We wandered in the shadow of the woodland,
Mute while we looked into each other's eyes,
And saw as in still pools of darkened water
The wonder of the skies.
No word we spoke. We knew that love had silenced
All that we wished to speak yet left unsaid;
The bees were humming in the wild-rose blossoms
Which clustered overhead.
And all that summer day we were together,
Alone with love, yet with a sword between--
The flaming sword that stands between us ever,
And all that might have been.
Mist gathered white at evening in the valleys,
And slowly grew the dusk from gold to grey,
While rain-clouds gathered on the low horizon
Dark at the close of day.
And softly rose a wind from out the darkness,
With scent of flower and fern and herb and tree,
And in its breath there came a sound of thunder,
Storm-laden from the sea.
And thus we reached the wicket of the garden;
The wood was full of sound, the sound of wings;
The scent of lavender brought back remembrance
Of long-forgotten things.
Though heaven and earth and sky should be forgotten,
Yet of that hour my soul should bear the trace:
For night fell fast, and in the deepening shadow
You turned and kissed my face.
_CHILDHOOD_
A stranger come I to the festival
Thou holdest in the regions of romance,
Where dragons lurk and elfin spirits dance,
And pearls lie hid within each rose petal.
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