The Rainbow and the Rose

He whispers of dawn and of dew,
Of love, and the heart of love,
Of worship, timid and true,
And she takes no joy thereof.

But when, through the noon's blind heat,
The arrogant bee flaunts by,
She yields him her heart's hid sweet,
And he leaves her alone, to die.

The depth of her dying bliss
Her grief-white butterfly knows:
And the bee laughs low in the kiss
Of another, a redder rose.

TO ONE WHO PLEADED FOR CANDOUR IN LOVE

HERE is the dim enchanted wood
Your face, a mystery divine,
But half revealed, half understood,
Appears the counterpart of mine.

Beyond the wood the daylight lies;
Cruel and hard, it lies in wait
To steal the magic from your eyes
And from your lips the thrill of fate.

Ah, stay with me a little while
Here, where the magic shadows rest,
Where all my world is in your smile
And all my heaven on your breast.

Ah no!—cling close, what need to move,
What need to advance or explore?
We came here blindly, led by love,
Who will not lead us any more.

Thank God that here we two have stood,
Thank God this shade was ours to win;
Time with his axe has marked our wood
And he will let the daylight in.

THE ENCHANTED GARDEN

OH, what a garden it was, living gold, living green,
Full of enchantments like spices embalming the air,
There, where you fled and I followed—you ever unseen,
Yet each glad pulse of me cried to my heart, "She is there!"

Roses and lilies and lilies and roses again,
Tangle of leaves and white magic of blossoming trees,
Sunlight that lay where, last moment, your footstep had lain—
Was not the garden enchanted that proffered me these?

Ah, what a garden it is since I caught you at last—
Scattered the magic and shattered the spell with a kiss:
Wintry and dreary and cold with the wind of the past,
Ah that a garden enchanted should wither to this!

THE POOR MAN'S GUEST

ONE came to me in royal guise
With banners flying fair and free
But many griefs had made me wise
And I refused to bow the knee.

Then one drew near who bore the flower
Of all the flowers of June and May;
But many griefs had lent me power
And I was strong to turn away.

Then came a beggar to my gate
With shoulders bowed to sorrow's pack,
So weary and so desolate
I had no heart to turn him back.

I let him share my board, my bed,
I warmed him in my shrinking breast,
I gave him all I had, and said:
"You, only you, have been my guest.

"Love passed in many a fair disguise
But never could an entrance win,
But you came in such piteous wise,
Poor friend, I could but let you in."

Low laughed my guest: "Kind friend!" said he,
And dropped the rags he was weary of;
And I, betrayed, saw over me
The terrible face of outraged Love.

IN THE SHALLOWS

AMONG the shallows where the sand
Is golden and the waves are small,
I love to lie, and to my hand
How many little treasures fall!
What shells and seaweed grace the shore,
What happy birds on happy wings,