Page:Poems Forrest.djvu/32

When you pruned the trees where the boughs arch over
 The buffalo grasses on moony nights,
When you trained the jasmines, like a lover
 To feed your soul with their fragrant whites,
How could you guess that it was for me
You trailed the vine, and you clipt the tree?

When you watered the grass on the oval patch
 And grooved the steps in the terraced green,
Did you hear no lift of the fastened latch?
 Did nothing pass by the paw-paw's screen
To tell you that you must toil in vain
Till our cycle brought me to you again?

Because of a night in Old Japan
 When my life went out on your bright red blade,
Because you have thwarted the Great God's plan,
 Because of a game you have not played,
In the hush of the moonlit night you wake
And break your heart for a woman's sake. . .

The Nearest to you are still estranged,
 The ties you make, they can never bind,
Oh, think of the scented ways we ranged,
 When the moon was full and the gods were kind!
Wistaria blossoms that wreathed the gate,
Yet . . . I have forgiven . . . and I can wait . . .
Till the gods have said that the blade is clean,
 That Love Eternal defies the stain,
Till my hands find yours with no hands between,
 And the broken circle is whole again;
With brave boughs fended, with roses deep,
In our last green garden we two shall sleep! . .