. At early candle light and other poems. d his naked feet, where shallow ripples gleam,As if the loops of crystal wherein the lad doth wadeHad threaded through the lilies of some Paradise arcade,And little laughing angels had tucked their tunics high,To plash across its limpid shoals before it left the sky;And still it lilts the melody of lute, and harp, and lyre,When the gold is on the willow, and the purple on the brier. When the gold is on the willow, and the purple on the my be sin to say it, but I fear that I shall tireOf heavens eternal summer, and sometimes I will yearnTo see,

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. At early candle light and other poems. d his naked feet, where shallow ripples gleam,As if the loops of crystal wherein the lad doth wadeHad threaded through the lilies of some Paradise arcade,And little laughing angels had tucked their tunics high,To plash across its limpid shoals before it left the sky;And still it lilts the melody of lute, and harp, and lyre,When the gold is on the willow, and the purple on the brier. When the gold is on the willow, and the purple on the my be sin to say it, but I fear that I shall tireOf heavens eternal summer, and sometimes I will yearnTo see, across the greening swale, a budding maple soul can neer be satisfied where sweet Spring never hathHer way along the mountain side or by the meadow path,Where kingcups never catch the sun, or bluebells mock the trout beneath the foam-wreaths hide, or bass jump at the fly. WHEN THE GOLD 15 ON THE WILLOW 15 And, in some homesick moment, for a furlough I 11 inquire,When the gold is on the willow, and the purple on the

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