 | Late songs |  |
52
THE GREY COUNTRY
I dreamt a dream on November Night
Of the dear souls that wait in pain
For the full Vision, the Delight,
Beauty that shall not change nor wane.
Of the dear souls that wait in pain
For the full Vision, the Delight,
Beauty that shall not change nor wane.
The grey country's to Heaven close,
Not Heaven but almost Heaven's twin;
As a grey rose to a gold rose,
As a grey image faint and thin.
Not Heaven but almost Heaven's twin;
As a grey rose to a gold rose,
As a grey image faint and thin.
In the grey land were bliss enough
Did not the Vision shine and gleam,
Turning the softest ways to rough
Until they might attain to Him?
Did not the Vision shine and gleam,
Turning the softest ways to rough
Until they might attain to Him?
Mary walking in Heaven's bower
Heard the sighing after her Son:
Give me Thy Mercy for an hour,
Thou who wert once my little one!
Heard the sighing after her Son:
Give me Thy Mercy for an hour,
Thou who wert once my little one!
53
Mary came with stars in her hair,
The new moon was under her feet;
In the grey world so still and fair
The heart of the world began to beat.
The new moon was under her feet;
In the grey world so still and fair
The heart of the world began to beat.
Some were clinging beside her skirt,
Soul on soul like a flock of birds;
Others nested, oh past desert!
On the heart that had seven swords.
Soul on soul like a flock of birds;
Others nested, oh past desert!
On the heart that had seven swords.
Mary gathers them one and all,
Many a one late home from war,
As they were children tender and small—
Sweetly gathers them all to her.
Many a one late home from war,
As they were children tender and small—
Sweetly gathers them all to her.
As a green tree in a bird's flight
I saw Mary amid her flock,
Carrying souls in her veil white,
Hiding them warm in her blue cloak.
I saw Mary amid her flock,
Carrying souls in her veil white,
Hiding them warm in her blue cloak.
| Late songs | |