THE GARDEN OF CYMODOCE.
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More strong than strong disaster, ant. 6
For fate and fear too strong;
Earth's friend, whose eyes look past her,
Whose hands would purge of wrong;
Our lord, our light, our master,
Whose word sums up all song.
Be it April or September str. 7
That plays his perfect part,
Burn June or blow December,
Thou canst not in thine heart
But rapturously remember,
All heavenlike as thou art,
Whose footfall made thee fairer, ant. 7
Whose passage more divine,
Whose hand, our thunder-bearer,
Held fire that bade thee shine
