A LAY OF THE EARLY ROSE.
265
—Poor Rose to be misknown!
Would, she had ne'er been blown,
In her loneness, in her loneness,—
All the sadder for that oneness!
Would, she had ne'er been blown,
In her loneness, in her loneness,—
All the sadder for that oneness!
Some word she tried to say—
Some no .. . ah, wellaway!
But the passion did o'ercome her,
And the fair frail leaves dropped from her—
Some no .. . ah, wellaway!
But the passion did o'ercome her,
And the fair frail leaves dropped from her—
Dropped from her, fair and mute,
Close to a poet's foot,
Who beheld them, smiling slowly
As at something sad yet holy:
Close to a poet's foot,
Who beheld them, smiling slowly
As at something sad yet holy:
Said, "Verily and thus
It chanceth eke with us
Poets singing sweetest snatches,
While that deaf men keep the watches—
It chanceth eke with us
Poets singing sweetest snatches,
While that deaf men keep the watches—
"Vaunting to come before
Our own age evermore
In a loneness, in a loneness,
And the nobler for that oneness!
Our own age evermore
In a loneness, in a loneness,
And the nobler for that oneness!
"Holy in voice and heart,—
To high ends, set apart!
All unmated, all unmated,
Because so consecrated!
To high ends, set apart!
All unmated, all unmated,
Because so consecrated!
"But if alone we be,
Where is our empery?
And if none can reach our stature,
Who can praise our lofty nature?
Where is our empery?
And if none can reach our stature,
Who can praise our lofty nature?
"What bell will yield a tone,
Swung in the air alone?
If no brazen clapper bringing,
Who can hear the chimed ringing?
Swung in the air alone?
If no brazen clapper bringing,
Who can hear the chimed ringing?
