European Elegies/Autumn (1)/Pearl

8.PEARL

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It was a pearl to kindle kings,Chastely mounted in mellow gold;Never in Orient journeyingsDid I its priceless peer behold .There lurked within its lambent springsSoft, lustrous magic manifold;And when I judged of precious things,Its beauty paramount I told.Alas! One day it slipped my hold:I lost it in the churchyard grassAnd groan because the graveyard mouldMars graces that the world surpass.

Yearning with many a bitter sighIn that green waste I wait; and longThe lost delights of days gone byBefore black sorrow choked my songArise in anguish to my eye,And through my memory's chambers throng;Till underneath that quiet skyThere stabs a dolour doubly strongThat her fair flesh should lie amongThe sullen depths of sodden clays—Ah earth, dank earth, you do me wrongTo rot the roses from her face!

From the Middle English.