In a Rosary

Through the low grey archway children's feet that pass     Quicken, glad to find the sweetest haunt of all.     Brightest wildflowers gleaming deep in lustiest grass,     Glorious weeds that glisten through the green sea's glass,     Match not now this marvel, born to fade and fall.     Roses like a rainbow wrought of roses rise     Right and left and forward, shining toward the sun.     Nay, the rainbow lit of sunshine droops and dies     Ere we dream it hallows earth and seas and skies;     Ere delight may dream it lives, its life is done.     Round the border hemmed with high deep hedges round     Go the children, peering over or between     Where the dense bright oval wall of box inwound,     Reared about the roses fast within it bound,     Gives them grace to glance at glories else unseen.     Flower outlightening flower and tree outflowering tree     Feed and fill the sense and spirit full with joy.     Nought awhile they know of outer earth and sea:     Here enough of joy it is to breathe and be:     Here the sense of life is one for girl and boy.     Heaven above them, bright as children's eyes or dreams,     Earth about them, sweet as glad soft sleep can show     Earth and sky and sea, a world that scarcely seems     Even in children's eyes less fair than life that gleams     Through the sleep that none but sinless eyes may know.     Near beneath, and near above, the terraced ways     Wind or stretch and bask or blink against the sun.     Hidden here from sight on soft or stormy days     Lies and laughs with love toward heaven, at silent gaze,     All the radiant rosaryall its flowers made one.     All the multitude of roses towering round     Dawn and noon and night behold as one full flower,     Fain of heaven and loved of heaven, curbed and crowned,     Raised and reared to make this plot of earthly ground     Heavenly, could but heaven endure on earth an hour.     Swept away, made nothing now for ever, dead,     Still the rosary lives and shines on memory, free     Now from fear of death or change as childhood, fled     Years on years before its last live leaves were shed:     None may mar it now, as none may stain the sea.