Life is too sad, I think, to live
  Alone, and dream and smoke and fish;
  I'll say "Forgive" first--if you wish?_

 _VI._

 _For at that word, the Sorcery
  Of Love shall change the earth and sky
  To Paradise, with cherubim
  Instead of birds on every limb._

 _VII._

 _Rivers shall sing our rhapsody;
  The vaulted forest, tree by tree,
  High hung with tapestry, shall glow
  With golden pillars all a-row._

 _VIII._

 _And down the gilded forest aisle
  Shy throngs of violets shall smile
  And kiss your feet from tree to tree
  While blue-bells droop in courtesy._

 _IX._

 _And if the sun incarnadine
  The clouds--green leaves shall be your screen;
  And if the clouds with jealousy
  Should weep--we'll beg of some kind tree
  A moment's hospitality._

 _X._

 _Good cheer is here, if you incline;
  Moss-hidden springs shall bubble wine
  While squirrels chuckle, rank on rank,
  And strawberries from every bank
  Shall blush to see how deep we drank._

 _XI._

 _Winds of the West shall cool our eyes
  While every woodland creature tries
  His voice a little, so that he
  May know his notes more perfectly
  When crickets start the symphony._

 _XII._

 _Through hazel glade and scented dell
  Where brooklets ring a tinkling bell,
  The forest orchestra shall swell,
  Until the sun-soaked grasses ring
  With crickets strumming string on string._

 _XIII._

 _Then, with your white hand daintily
  Scarce touching mine, we'll leave our tree
  And ramble slowly toward the West
  Where our high castle's flaming crest,
  Towering behind the setting sun,
  Flings out its banners, one by one,
  Signals of fire, that day is done._

 _XIV._

 _Deep in that palace we shall find
  How blind we are, how blind! how blind! And how he'll laugh, who holds the key
  To the great portal's mystery! And how his joyous laugh will ring
  When you and I shall bid him fling
  The gates ajar for you and me!_

 _XV._

 _Let shadows flee athwart the lea
  When dark December strips the hedge
  Along the icy river's edge;
    Yet, if you will forgive me, lass,
  The world shall bloom like spring to me,
    Snow turn to dew upon the grass
    And fagots blossom where you pass._

 _XVI._

 _Swallows shall sheer the frozen mere,
  Dead reeds along the mill-pond's rims
  Shall thrill with summer-thrushes' hymns,
    While summer breezes blow apace,
  If you will but forgive me, dear,
    And let me find a moment's grace,
    In your sweet eyes and your dear face._

                                       _R. W. C._


THE END. CORRECTIONS


  page     original text                    correction
  ix       [missing from contents]          THE KEY TO GRIEF      185
  13       Yvette has gone to Bannelec. Yvette has gone to Bannalec. 23       It was crowded with Britons,     It was crowded with Bretons,
  29       doxens of similar red            dozens of similar red
  93       the great moth dated             the great moth darted
  103      among the beach trees. among the beech trees. 104      leaves of beach and oak          leaves of beech and oak
  135      Sacré garce! Sacrée garce! 167      O frère Jaques,                  O frère Jacques,
  180      carved from red beach. carved from red beech. 181      their is much lace               there is much lace
  181      chiselled in red beach. chiselled in red beech.