Thomas Edward Brown.

1830-1897

798   Salve!

TO live within a cave—it is most good;
   But, if God make a day,
And some one come, and say,
‘Lo! I have gather’d faggots in the wood!’
   E’en let him stay,
And light a fire, and fan a temporal mood!
So sit till morning! when the light is grown
   That he the path can read,
   Then bid the man God-speed!
His morning is not thine: yet must thou own
They have a cheerful warmth—those ashes on the stone.

799   Preparation

HAST thou a cunning instrument of play,
’Tis well; but see thou keep it bright,
And tuned to primal chords, so that it may
Be ready day and night.
For when He comes thou know’st not, who shall say:—
‘These virginals are apt’; and try a note,
And sit, and make sweet solace of delight,
That men shall stand to listen on the way,
And all the room with heavenly music float.

800   My Garden

A GARDEN is a lovesome thing, God wot!
  Rose plot,
  Fringed pool,
Fern’d grot—
  The veriest school
  Of peace; and yet the fool
Contends that God is not—
Not God! in gardens! when the eve is cool?
  Nay, but I have a sign;
  ’Tis very sure God walks in mine.