Flower Pieces and other poems By William Allingham: With two designs by Dante Gabriel Rossetti |
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IN A GARDEN. |
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 | Flower Pieces and other poems |  |
31
IN A GARDEN.
Betwixt our apple-boughs, how clear
The violet western hills appear,
As calmly ends another day
Of Earth's long history,—from the ray
She with slow majestic motion
Wheeling continent and ocean
Into her own dim shade, wherethrough
The Outer Heavens come into view,
Deep beyond deep.
The violet western hills appear,
As calmly ends another day
Of Earth's long history,—from the ray
She with slow majestic motion
Wheeling continent and ocean
Into her own dim shade, wherethrough
The Outer Heavens come into view,
Deep beyond deep.
In thought conceive
This rolling Globe whereon we live
(For in the mind, and there alone
A picture of the world is shown),
How huge it is, how full of things,
As round the royal Sun it swings,
In one of many subject rings—
Carrying our Cottage with the rest,
Its rose-lawn and its martin's nest.
This rolling Globe whereon we live
(For in the mind, and there alone
A picture of the world is shown),
How huge it is, how full of things,
As round the royal Sun it swings,
In one of many subject rings—
Carrying our Cottage with the rest,
Its rose-lawn and its martin's nest.
But, number every grain of sand
Wherever salt wave touches land;
Number in single drops the sea;
Number the leaves on every tree;
Number Earth's living creatures, all
That run, that fly, that swim, that crawl;
Of sands, drops, leaves, and lives, the count
Add up into one vast amount;
And then, for every separate one
Of all those, let a flaming Sun
Whirl in the boundless skies, with each
Its massy planets, to outreach
All sight, all thought: for all we see,
Encircled with Infinity,
Is but an island.
Wherever salt wave touches land;
Number in single drops the sea;
Number the leaves on every tree;
Number Earth's living creatures, all
That run, that fly, that swim, that crawl;
Of sands, drops, leaves, and lives, the count
Add up into one vast amount;
And then, for every separate one
Of all those, let a flaming Sun
Whirl in the boundless skies, with each
Its massy planets, to outreach
All sight, all thought: for all we see,
Encircled with Infinity,
Is but an island.
32
Look aloft,
The stars are gathering. Cool and soft
The twilight in our garden-croft
Purples the crimson-folded rose,
(O tell me how so sweet it grows)
Makes gleam like stars the cluster'd white;
And Beauty too is infinite.
The stars are gathering. Cool and soft
The twilight in our garden-croft
Purples the crimson-folded rose,
(O tell me how so sweet it grows)
Makes gleam like stars the cluster'd white;
And Beauty too is infinite.
| Flower Pieces and other poems | |