Page:Poems Argent.djvu/87

   Dumb behold her!
   Yet enfold her
 Close beneath your household eaves.

Deaf her ears to earth's fair beauty,
 Deaf to all her matin song,
Warbling tenderly around her,
 Breathing melody among
   The green meadows
   Lapped in shadows,
 Lying tranquil all day long.

Though she heard not she could see all,
 For the good God gave her sight:
Sight that made the crimson sunset
 Burn with mystery more bright
   Than we mortals
   At heaven's portals
 Catch to fill our souls with light.

I have passed her in the woodlands
 Plucking flowers and weaving chains
Of the buttercups and daisies,
 That repaid her for her pains;
   Happy maiden,
   So love laden,
 May your losses turn to gains!

In the autumn fields of amber,
 Like a poppy 'mid the wheat,