Xi

That very love which made you be for me A splendid garden wherein moving tree, Made shadow over sward and docile rose, Makes you the shelter where I now repose.

There garnered are your flowers of desire, Your lucent goodness and your gentle fire; But all within a peace profound are furled Against harsh winter winds that scar the world.

My happiness is warmed within your arms; Each little tender word you whisper charms My ear with as familiar a delight As in the time when lilacs blossomed white.

Your clear and merry humour daily cheers And triumphs over the distress of years; And you yourself smile at the silver hairs That your lovely head so gaily wears.

When to my searching kiss your head you bow, I care not for the lines that mark your brow, Nor for a vein that traces its bold line Upon your hands now safely held in mine.

You fear not; and you know most certainly That nothing dies that dares love loyally, And that the flame which nourishes us so Feeds upon ruin's self that it may grow.