The Memory of Earth

In the wet dusk silver sweet,

Down the violet scented ways,

As I moved with quiet feet

I was met by mighty days.

On the hedge the hanging dew

Glassed the eve and stars and skies;

While I gazed a madness grew

Into thundered battle cries.

Where the hawthorn glimmered white,

Flashed the spear and fell the stroke—

Ah, what faces pale and bright

Where the dazzling battle broke!

There a hero-hearted queen

                                                With young beauty lit the van:

Gone! the darkness flowed between

All the ancient wars of man.

While I paced the valley's gloom

Where the rabbits pattered near,

Shone a temple and a tomb

With the legend carven clear:

“Time put by a myriad fates

That her day might dawn in glory;

Death made wide a million gates

So to close her tragic story.”