The Spell Of The Rose

"I mean to build a hall anon,          And shape two turrets there,          And a broad newelled stair,     And a cool well for crystal water;         Yes; I will build a hall anon,         Plant roses love shall feed upon,          And apple trees and pear."         He set to build the manor-hall,          And shaped the turrets there,          And the broad newelled stair,     And the cool well for crystal water;         He built for me that manor-hall,         And planted many trees withal,          But no rose anywhere.         And as he planted never a rose          That bears the flower of love,          Though other flowers throve     A frost-wind moved our souls to sever         Since he had planted never a rose;         And misconceits raised horrid shows,          And agonies came thereof.         "I'll mend these miseries," then said I,          And so, at dead of night,          I went and, screened from sight,     That nought should keep our souls in severance,         I set a rose-bush. "This," said I,         "May end divisions dire and wry,          And long-drawn days of blight."         But I was called from earth yea, called          Before my rose-bush grew;          And would that now I knew     What feels he of the tree I planted,         And whether, after I was called         To be a ghost, he, as of old,          Gave me his heart anew!         Perhaps now blooms that queen of trees          I set but saw not grow,          And he, beside its glow -     Eyes couched of the mis-vision that blurred me -         Ay, there beside that queen of trees         He sees me as I was, though sees          Too late to tell me so!