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Show In Freya's Garden. In Kieyn's friiRrnnt gnidcn Tho houIs of bnbts unborn, That Tlmo hns dtred not harden Hy I.lfo'H chill, EllmmerhiK mom. Slumber nnd lnush nnd play. There, ntnld cool, low? grasses, Ily sounds of lushlnK sttinms, f'or tlicm tho summer passes. From drtnms to hnpuy dreams, JCor changes nny dn. Strange, snowy blnssnmn falling Crown every golden brad. There Is no sad n calling Of Joyous daiH long dead, l'or there no Past is known; No hours by them nre numbered. No Future makes them fear. No sin that long has slumbered Cries out until they hear. And claims them for Its own. Freyn, mlld-eycd and queenly. Passes from ench to ench. (.reeling ench soul serenely. Yet has no need for speech, For ench child undei stands. And as by ench she lingers They gaze In her fnlr face. And their soft baby Angers Are drawn by her calm grace To clasp her mother hands. Life's messenger some morning, The lndy-blrd, draws ntgh, And without sign or warning Toward some soul must Ily And light on lips or brow; Out from the green recesses It needs must follow then, Leave Freja's warm caresses For the rough walks of men It had not known till now, Luveson Gower. |