The Spice-tree

    This is the song
    The spice-tree sings:
    "Hunger and fire,
    Hunger and fire,
    Sky-born Beauty -
    Spice of desire,"
    Under the spice-tree
    Watch and wait,
    Burning maidens
    And lads that mate.

    The spice-tree spreads
    And its boughs come down
    Shadowing village and farm and town.
    And none can see
    But the pure of heart
    The great green leaves
    And the boughs descending,
    And hear the song that is never ending.

    The deep roots whisper,
    The branches say: -
    "Love to-morrow,
    And love to-day,
    And till Heaven's day,
    And till Heaven's day."

    The moon is a bird's nest in its branches,
    The moon is hung in its topmost spaces.
    And there, to-night, two doves play house
    While lovers watch with uplifted faces.
    Two doves go home
    To their nest, the moon.
    It is woven of twigs of broken light,
    With threads of scarlet and threads of gray
    And a lining of down for silk delight.
    To their Eden, the moon, fly home our doves,
    Up through the boughs of the great spice-tree; -
    And one is the kiss I took from you,
    And one is the kiss you gave to me.