The Poetical Works of John Payne :: :: University of Virginia Library

BELLS of gold where the sun has been,
Azure cups in the woven green,
Who in the night has been with you
And painted you golden and jewel-blue
And brimmed your flower-cups with diamond dew?

Lo! in the evening Spring was dead
And the flowers had lost their maidenhead
Under the burning kiss of the sun:
Tell me, who was the shining one
That came by night, when the sky was dun

And the pale thin mists were over the moon,
And brimmed your hearts with the wine of noon?
Who was it breathed on the painted May,
Under the screen of the shadow play,
And gave it life for another day?

I watched at the setting to see him ride,
But only saw the day that died,
The faint-eyed flow'rets shrink and fail
Into their shrouding petals' veil
And all things under the moon turn pale.

I watched in the night, but saw no thing.
I heard in the midnight the grey bird sing
And ran to look for the shape of power,
But saw no thing in the silence flower,
Save moonmists over forest and bower.

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Goldcups, it could not have been the May,
For dead in the twilight the Spring-time lay,
Under the arch of the setting sun,
Ere in the gloaming the day was done
And the masque of the shadows had begun.

But lo! in the early scented morn
A new delight in the air was born;
Brighter than ever bloomed the Spring,
The glad flowers blew and the birds did sing
And blithe was every living thing.

Merles that flute in the linden-hall,
Larks, if ye would, ye could tell me all;
Ye that were waking at break of day,
Did ye see no one pass away,
With ripple of song and pinion-play?

Ah! I am sure that ye know him well,
Although ye are false and will not tell!
Haply, natheless, I shall be near
And hear you praise him loudly and clear,
Some day when ye wit not I can hear.