If to grow old in Heaven is to grow young, (As the Seer saw and said,) then blest were he With youth forevermore, whose heaven should be True Woman, she whom these weak notes have sung.

Here and hereafter,--choir-strains of her tongue,--Sky-spaces of her eyes,--sweet signs that flee About her soul's immediate sanctuary,--Were Paradise all uttermost worlds among.

The sunrise blooms and withers on the hill Like any hillflower; and the noblest troth Dies here to dust. Yet shall Heaven's promise clothe Even yet those lovers who have cherished still This test for love:--in every kiss sealed fast To feel the first kiss and forebode the last.

LOVE'S LAST GIFT

Love to his singer held a glistening leaf, And said: 'The rose-tree and the apple-tree Have fruits to vaunt or flowers to lure the bee;And golden shafts are in the feathered sheaf Of the great harvest-marshal, the year's chief, Victorious Summer; aye, and 'neath warm sea Strange secret grasses lurk inviolably Between the filtering channels of sunk reef.

All are my blooms; and all sweet blooms of love To thee I gave while Spring and Summer sang;But Autumn stops to listen, with some pang From those worse things the wind is moaning of.

Only this laurel dreads no winter days:

Take my last gift; thy heart hath sung my praise.'