 | Irish Poems |  |
62
THE TREE
To Wilfrid Meynell
When that man was cast away
Out of Eden for his sin,
God put by His wrath to say:
“Now his sad time shall begin;
Out of Eden for his sin,
God put by His wrath to say:
“Now his sad time shall begin;
My poor creature, made to walk
By Me under forest trees,
Made to walk with Me and talk
When the evening brings much ease:
By Me under forest trees,
Made to walk with Me and talk
When the evening brings much ease:
Since a tree hath him undone,
My poor creature that I planned,
By a Tree he shall be won,
Given again into My Hand.”
My poor creature that I planned,
By a Tree he shall be won,
Given again into My Hand.”
God took up a seed of life,
Planted it in tear-wet earth:
“My poor Adam and his wife
Shall have shade and quiet mirth.
Planted it in tear-wet earth:
“My poor Adam and his wife
Shall have shade and quiet mirth.
63
This, My tree shall grow and grow
Till its branches fill the air;
Not my groves of Heaven may show
Princely fruit as this shall bear.
Till its branches fill the air;
Not my groves of Heaven may show
Princely fruit as this shall bear.
Hanging head and knees, alack,
This shall bear a noble Flower,
And My Tree will give Me back
What I lost by Eden bower.”
This shall bear a noble Flower,
And My Tree will give Me back
What I lost by Eden bower.”
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