A BALLADE OF COLOURS.

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SHE went with morning down the wood
Between the green and blue;
The sunlight on the grass was good,
And all the year was new.
There Love came o’er the flowers to her,
A goodly sight to see
From crownÈd hair to wing-feather;
“Arise and come with me.”
She walked with him in Paradise
Between the white and red,
With Love’s own kiss between her eyes,
Love’s crown upon her head.
Why two in heaven should not be thus
For ever, who may know?
Love spread his wings most glorious;
“Arise,” he said, “I go.
She came and sate down silently
Between the gray and gray;
The wet wind beat the leafless tree,
And Love was gone away.
The woodland breaks to flower anew,
The days bring back the year;
But how am I to comfort you,
My dear, my dear, my dear?

J. W. Mackail.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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