 | Late songs |  |
89
THE IMMORTAL
Here, where I went in and out,
I no more may come and go.
This with sweetbriar fringed about
Is another's garden, so
His the master's foot to come
In each dear, remembered room.
I no more may come and go.
This with sweetbriar fringed about
Is another's garden, so
His the master's foot to come
In each dear, remembered room.
Such a blank, forgetting face
The house turns that was my house,
Where I built a little space,
As the birds build in the boughs.
But the birds—the birds are gone
And the vernal days are done.
The house turns that was my house,
Where I built a little space,
As the birds build in the boughs.
But the birds—the birds are gone
And the vernal days are done.
Forth I fare that once would stay.
I have neither walls nor roof,
Being a traveller, blithe and gay,
In a world that's weather-proof,
Where no rust eats in, no moth
Frets the sacred altar-cloth.
I have neither walls nor roof,
Being a traveller, blithe and gay,
In a world that's weather-proof,
Where no rust eats in, no moth
Frets the sacred altar-cloth.
90
Open, skies, and let me through.
Here I struck no roots to be
Fearful of all winds that blew.
There I shall grow a tree, a tree
Where in calm and shining weather,
My birds and I shall be together.
Here I struck no roots to be
Fearful of all winds that blew.
There I shall grow a tree, a tree
Where in calm and shining weather,
My birds and I shall be together.
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