The Grove of Wattles.
171
The tide full-flood, kisses attainment's lips
For just one moment ere it sees eclipse,
And life has just one harvest of an hour
When love puts forth its perfect-petalled flower,
That was my tide full-flood, my goal attained,
My brimming cup in one quick moment drained,
That was my blossom hour, my gold on gold,
My perfect moment whose unmatchable mould
Broke then for ever.
For just one moment ere it sees eclipse,
And life has just one harvest of an hour
When love puts forth its perfect-petalled flower,
That was my tide full-flood, my goal attained,
My brimming cup in one quick moment drained,
That was my blossom hour, my gold on gold,
My perfect moment whose unmatchable mould
Broke then for ever.
My Hidden Garden.
A hedge of silence shields it from the passer-by,
We only hold its mystic key, my brooding heart and I,
Here blow the lilies of my dreams, fair and unspotted yet
In the sheltered place, where long ago their fragile stems were set.
We only hold its mystic key, my brooding heart and I,
Here blow the lilies of my dreams, fair and unspotted yet
In the sheltered place, where long ago their fragile stems were set.
O! dreams of youth unsullied
By bitterness or strife,
Dreams of the pure in spirit,
Ye are the lilies of life.
By bitterness or strife,
Dreams of the pure in spirit,
Ye are the lilies of life.
