And sometimes through the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two.
The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.
Silence, beautiful voice.
The white flower of a blameless life.
๏ปฟThe wind sounds like a silver wire, And from beyond the noon a fire Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher The skies stoop down in their desire; And, isled in sudden seas of light, My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight, Bursts into blossom in his sight.
Happy he With such a mother! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him; and tho' he trip and fall, He shall not blind his soul with clay.