Forbore to raze the chapel to the ground, But stayed with flying buttress either side, Repaired the roof and made it to her mind. And there they lie, both in one marble tomb On which their effigies with clasping hands Bear witness to an everlasting love. 

 And when vacation brings its hours of rest I sometimes sit within the Saxon church And muse upon the changes time has brought Save to the faith that reared the little shrine, And still builds churches "in Fayre Jesu's name." 

 

 

 Winter 

 'Tis winter and the darkening skies Awake regretful memories Of wooded hill and sunlit plain, Ringing with anthems to the sun Until his arching course was run And nightingales took up the strain. 

 The trees, then dense with leaves and flowers, Stood through the long and smiling hours, Housing an honest little folk, Throbbing with life by day and night, Whose voices, vibrant with delight, Of happy labour ever spoke. 

 The trees now spread their haggard arms, Bared of their pristine, leafy charms, To cold and unresponsive skies That neither smile nor weep, but chill With cold indifference, and kill Hope that all nature underlies. 

 A dreary moan floats on the wind From the gaunt oaks, that, ill defined, Show spectral shapes against the sky From which the fleeting day has flown While dead leaves on the earth are strown To mark the summer's mortuary. 

 Where are the thousand things of life That erstwhile made the place all rife With busy hum and restless wing And turmoil of a world of love? The blackbird on her nest above, Below, the beetle tunnelling. 

 Gone with the happiness I knew Because the heavens were always blue, While the sun shone from day to day And winter was not.  'Twas as far And nebulous as yonder star That throws its cold and sickly ray 

 Where once a glorious flood of light Ceased only with the falling night. Gloom hovers where triumphant joy Beatified each passing hour, For Winter now with ruthless power Fulfils its mission to destroy. 

 The Voice of Winter. 

 "I bring not death but rest to flower and tree, "And nurse the flame divine, Vitality, "That burns immortal since primeval night "When the Creator said: 'Let there be light!' "And loosed the sun upon his blazing 

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