breath of his intensest dream. Now, to that glimpse, that moment, come with me; Our rulers come. O brother let there be Such welcome to our Prince as never was. Let there be flowers under foot, not grass, Flowers and scented rushes and the sprays Of purple bramble reddening into blaze. [Pg 63]Let there be bells rung backward till the tune Be as the joy of all the bees in June. Let float your flags, and let your lanterns rise Like fruit upon the trees in Paradise, In many-coloured lights as rich as Rome O'er road and tent; and let the children come, It is their world, these Beauty Dwellers bring."  Then, like the song of all the birds of spring He played his flute, and all who heard it cried, "Strew flowers before our rulers to the Ring." The courtiers hurried for their coats of pride The upturned faces in that market wide Glowed in the sunset to a beauty grave Such as the faces of immortals have. And work was laid aside on desk and bench, The red-lined ledger summed no penny more, From lamp-blacked fingers the mechanic's wrench Dropped to the kinking wheel chains on the floor, [Pg 64]The farmer shut the hen roost: at the store The boys put up the shutters and ran hooting Wild with delight in freedom to the fluting. And now the fluting led that gathered tide Of men and women forward through the town, And flowers seemed to fall from every side, White starry blossoms such as brooks bow down, White petals clinging in the hair and gown; And those who marched there thought that starry flowers Grew at their sides, as though the streets were bowers. And all, in marching, thought, "We go to see Life, not the daily coil, but as it is Lived in its beauty in eternity, Above base aim, beyond our miseries; Life that is speed and colour and bright bliss, And beauty seen and strained for, and possest Even as a star forever in the breast." [Pg 65] The fluting led them through the western gate, From many a tossing torch their faces glowed, Bright-eyed and ruddy-featured and elate; They sang and scattered flowers upon the road, Still in their hair the starry blossoms snowed; They saw ahead the green-striped tent, their mark, Lit now and busy in the gathering dark. There at the vans and in the green-striped tent The circus artists growled their discontent. Close to the gate a lighted van there was; The showman's wife thrust back its window glass. And leaned her head without to see who came To buy a ticket for the evening's game. A roll of tickets and a plate of pence (For change) lay by her as she leaned from thence. She heard the crowd afar, but in her thought She said: "That's in the city; it is nought. [Pg 66]They glorify the Queen."  Though sick at heart She wore her spangles for her evening's part, To dance upon the barebacked horse and sing. Green velvet 

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