Vi. Ascetic Nature

(In Ireland)

Passion and song, and the adornèd hours Of floral loveliness, hopes grown most sweet, And generous patience in the ripening heat, A mother’s bosom, a bride’s face of flowers --Knows Nature aught so fair? Witness ye Powers Which rule the virgin heart of this retreat To rarer issues, ye who render meet Earth, purged and pure, for gracious heavenly dowers! The luminous pale lake, the pearl-grey sky, The wave that gravely murmurs meek desires, The abashed yet lit expectance of the whole, --These and their beauty speak of earthly fires Long quenched, clear aims, deliberate sanctity,-- O’er the white forehead lo! the aureole.