Idyll

by
 In the grey summer garden I shall find you 
With day-break and the morning hills behind you.
There will be rain-wet roses; stir of wings; And down the wood a thrush that wakes and sings.
Not from the past you’ll come, but from that deep Where beauty murmurs to the soul asleep: And I shall know the sense of life re-born From dreams into the mystery of morn Where gloom and brightness meet.
And standing there Till that calm song is done, at last we’ll share The league-spread, quiring symphonies that are Joy in the world, and peace, and dawn’s one star.

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