And there we four awhile shall dwell
As though the world were nought but well,
And that old time come back again
When nought in all the earth had pain. 
The sun through lime-boughs where we dine
Upon my father’s cup shall shine;
The vintage of the river-bank,
That ten years since the sunbeams drank,
Shall fill the mazer bowl carved o’er
With naked shepherd-folk of yore. 
Dainty should seem worse fare than ours
As o’er the close-thronged garden flowers
The wind comes to us, and the bees
Complain overhead mid honey-trees.

JOAN

Wherewith shall we be garlanded?

GILES

For thee the buds of roses red.

JOAN

For her white roses widest blown.

GILES

The jasmine boughs for Pharamond’s crown.

JOAN

And sops-in-wine for thee, fair love.

GILES

Surely our feast shall deeper move
The kind heart of the summer-tide
Than many a day of pomp and pride;
And as by moon and stars well lit
Our kissing lips shall finish it,
Full satisfied our hearts shall be
With that well-won felicity.

JOAN

Ah, sweetheart, be not all so sure: 
Love, who beyond all worlds shall dure,
Mid pleading sweetness still doth keep
A goad to stay his own from sleep;
And I shall long as thou shalt long
For unknown cure of unnamed wrong
As from our happy feast we pass
Along the rose-strewn midnight grass—­
—­Praise Love who will not be forgot!

GILES

Yea, praise we Love who sleepeth not! 
—­Come, o’er much gold mine eyes have seen,
And long now for the pathway green,
And rose-hung ancient walls of grey
Yet warm with sunshine gone away.

JOAN

Yea, full fain would I rest thereby,
And watch the flickering martins fly
About the long eave-bottles red
And the clouds lessening overhead: 
E’en now meseems the cows are come
Unto the grey gates of our home,
And low to hear the milking-pail: 
The peacock spreads abroad his tail
Against the sun, as down the lane
The milkmaids pass the moveless wain,
And stable door, where the roan team
An hour agone began to dream
Over the dusty oats.—­
                      Come, love,
Noises of river and of grove
And moving things in field and stall
And night-birds’ whistle shall be all
Of the world’s speech that we shall hear
By then we come the garth anear: