Poems (Taylor)/Saint Mary of the Flowers'
SAINT MARY OF THE FLOWERS'
Meet me at Saint Mary of the Flowers'. Art thou tired as I? At evenfallMeet me at Saint Mary of the Flowers.'
Ringing ancient rimes the far bells call! There we sundered. Folly infinite!Ringing rimes of mercy, hear them call.
From a world of lilies red and white, Once by legendary angels trod,—(O my pain is red, my love is white!)
Towers like great sword-lilies up to God Triumph. Lo! Saint Mary of the Flowers',All her spires upringing unto God!
Meet me at Saint Mary of the Flowers'. Love is very great at evenfall:Therefore meet me mid the abbey-flowers.
In the twilight Love remembers all. Is God wroth with such a wasted day?"Oh! the bleeding hearts!—Forgive them all.
"Count their pangs, poor children!" Love will say. All the West is dewy apple-green.Pray a little; rise and come away.
Underneath the tender apple-green, They shall bring us royally on biers:They shall couch us like a king and queen.
Neither kisses, O my Love, nor tears Shall we mingle in the Field of Flowers:(O the olden kisses, and the tears!)
Yet at sweet Saint Mary of the Flowers' Subtly shall we be at one at last,Resting at Saint Mary of the Flowers'.
I Leave unto the locusts what is past.Meet me at Saint Mary of the Flowers'.