  Still the sovereign trees Make the sundawn's breeze More bright, more sweet, more heavenly than it rose, As wind and sun fulfil Their living rapture: still Noon, dawn, and evening thrill With radiant change the immeasurable repose Wherewith the woodland wilds lie blest And feel how storms and centuries rock them still to rest. Still the love-lit place Given of God such grace That here was born on earth a birth divine Gives thanks with all its flowers Through all their lustrous hours, From all its birds and bowers Gives thanks that here they felt her sunset shine Where once her sunrise laughed, and bade The life of all the living things it lit be glad. Soft as light and strong Rises yet their song And thrills with pride the cedar-crested lawn But she, beloved above All utterance known of love, Abides no more the change of night and dawn, Beholds no more with earth-born eye These woods that watched her waking here where all things die. Not the light that shone When she looked thereon Shines on them or shall shine for ever here. We know not, save when sleep Slays death, who fain would keep His mystery dense and deep, Where shines the smile we held and hold so dear. Dreams only, thrilled and filled with love, Bring back its light ere dawn leave nought alive above. Nought alive awake Sees the strong dawn break On all the dreams that dying night bade live. Yet scarce the intolerant sense Of day's harsh evidence How came their word and whence Strikes dumb the song of thanks it bids them give, The joy that answers as it heard And lightens as it saw the light that spake the word. Night and sleep and dawn Pass with dreams withdrawn: But higher above them far than noon may climb The deadly noon of night. His fiery spirit of sight Endures no curb of change or darkling time. Even earth and transient things of earth Even here to him bear witness not of death but birth. |
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