Envoi

by Robert W. Chambers

　　When shadows pass across the grass

　　And April breezes stir the sedge,

　　Along the brimming river's edge

　　 I trail my line for silver trout,

　　And smoke, and dream of you, my lass,

　　 And wonder why we two fell out,

　　 And how the deuce it came about.

　　II.

　　When swallows sheer the meadow-mere

　　And thickets thrill with thrushes' hymns,

　　Along the mill-pond's reedy rims

　　 I trail my line for shining dace;

　　But how can finny fishes cheer

　　 A fellow, if he find no grace

　　 In your sweet eyes and your dear face?

　　III.

　　Let thrushes wing their way and sing

　　Where cresses freshen pebbled nooks;

　　By silent rills and singing brooks

　　 I pass my way alone, alas!

　　With your dear name the woodlands ring—

　　 Your name is murmured by the grass,

　　 By earth, by air, all-where I pass.

　　IV.

　　The painted bream may swim the stream—

　　 I'll cast no line to-day, pardi!

　　In vain the river-ripples gleam,

　　 In vain the thrushes' minstrelsy.

　　Vain is the wind that whispers, "Lo!

　　Thy fish are waiting—Angler, go!"

　　V.

　　Will you forgive if I forgive?

　　Life is too sad, I think, to live

　　Alone, and dream and smoke and fish;

　　I'll say "Forgive" first—if you wish?

　　VI.

　　For at that word, the Sorcery

　　Of Love shall change the earth and sky

　　To Paradise, with cherubim

　　Instead of birds on every limb.

　　VII.

　　Rivers shall sing our rhapsody;

　　The vaulted forest, tree by tree,

　　High hung with tapestry, shall glow

　　With golden pillars all a-row.

　　VIII.

　　And down the gilded forest aisle

　　Shy throngs of violets shall smile

　　And kiss your feet from tree to tree

　　While blue-bells droop in courtesy.

　　IX.

　　And if the sun incarnadine

　　The clouds—green leaves shall be your screen;

　　And if the clouds with jealousy

　　Should weep—we'll beg of some kind tree

　　A moment's hospitality.

　　X.

　　Good cheer is here, if you incline;

　　Moss-hidden springs shall bubble wine

　　While squirrels chuckle, rank on rank,

　　And strawberries from every bank

　　Shall blush to see how deep we drank.

　　XI.

　　Winds of the West shall cool our eyes

　　While every woodland creature tries

　　His voice a little, so that he

　　May know his notes more perfectly

　　When crickets start the symphony.

　　XII.

　　Through hazel glade and scented dell

　　Where brooklets ring a tinkling bell,

　　The forest orchestra shall swell,

　　Until the sun-soaked grasses ring

　　With crickets strumming string on string.

　　XIII.

　　Then, with your white hand daintily

　　Scarce touching mine, we'll leave our tree

　　And ramble slowly toward the West

　　Where our high castle's flaming crest,

　　Towering behind the setting sun,

　　Flings out its banners, one by one,

　　Signals of fire, that day is done.

　　XIV.

　　Deep in that palace we shall find

　　How blind we are, how blind! how blind!

　　And how he'll laugh, who holds the key

　　To the great portal's mystery!

　　And how his joyous laugh will ring

　　When you and I shall bid him fling

　　The gates ajar for you and me!

　　XV.

　　Let shadows flee athwart the lea

　　When dark December strips the hedge

　　Along the icy river's edge;

　　 Yet, if you will forgive me, lass,

　　The world shall bloom like spring to me,

　　 Snow turn to dew upon the grass

　　 And fagots blossom where you pass.

　　XVI.

　　Swallows shall sheer the frozen mere,

　　Dead reeds along the mill-pond's rims

　　Shall thrill with summer-thrushes' hymns,

　　 While summer breezes blow apace,

　　If you will but forgive me, dear,

　　 And let me find a moment's grace,

　　 In your sweet eyes and your dear face.

　　R. W. C.