209. ‘Strange, all-absorbing Love’

STRANGE, all-absorbing Love, who gatherest

Unto Thy glowing all my pleasant dew,

Then delicately my garden waterest,

Drawing the old, to pour it back anew:

In the dim glitter of the dawning hours

‘Not so,’ I said, ‘but still those drops of light,

Heart-shrined among the petals of my flowers,

Shall hold the memory of the starry night

‘So fresh, no need of showers shall there be.’—

Ah, senseless gardener! must it come to pass

That ’neath the glaring noon thou shouldest see

Thine earth become as iron, His heavens as brass?

Nay rather, O my Sun, I will be wise,

Believe in Love which may not yet be seen,

Yield Thee my earth-drops, call Thee from the skies,

In soft return, to keep my bedding green.

So when the bells at Vesper-tide shall sound,

And the dead ocean o’er my garden flows,

Upon the Golden Altar may be found

Some scarlet berries and a Christmas rose.