The Spice-tree

This is the song          The spice-tree sings:          "Hunger and fire,          Hunger and fire,          Sky-born Beauty -          Spice of desire,"          Under the spice-tree          Watch and wait,          Burning maidens          And lads that mate.          The spice-tree spreads          And its boughs come down          Shadowing village and farm and town.          And none can see          But the pure of heart          The great green leaves          And the boughs descending,          And hear the song that is never ending.          The deep roots whisper,          The branches say: -          "Love to-morrow,          And love to-day,          And till Heaven's day,          And till Heaven's day."          The moon is a bird's nest in its branches,          The moon is hung in its topmost spaces.          And there, to-night, two doves play house          While lovers watch with uplifted faces.          Two doves go home          To their nest, the moon.          It is woven of twigs of broken light,          With threads of scarlet and threads of gray          And a lining of down for silk delight.          To their Eden, the moon, fly home our doves,          Up through the boughs of the great spice-tree; -          And one is the kiss I took from you,          And one is the kiss you gave to me.