With careful hands uprooting it, they bore The little plant a willing captive home; Willing to enter dark abodes, secure In its own tale of light. As once of old, Bearing all heaven in words of promising, The Angel of the Annunciation came, It carried all the spring into that house; A pot of mould its only tie to Earth, Its heaven an ell of blue 'twixt chimney-tops, Its world henceforth that little, low-ceiled room, Symbol and child of spring, it took its place 'Midst all those types, to be a type with them, Of what so many feel, not knowing it; The hidden springtime that is drawing nigh. And henceforth, when the shadow of the cross Will enter, clothed in moonlight, still and dark, The flower will nestle at its foot till day, Pale, drooping, heart-content. To rest they went. And all night long the snowdrop glimmered white Amid the dark, unconscious and unseen. Before the sun had crowned his eastern hill With its world-diadem, they woke. I looked Out of the windows of the inner dream, And saw the edge of the sun's glory rise Eastward behind the hills, the lake-cup's rim. And as it came, it sucked up in itself, As deeds drink words, or daylight candle-flame, That other sun rising to light the dream. They lay awake and thoughtful, comforted With yesterday which nested in their hearts, Yet haunted with the sound of grinding wheels. THE OUTER DREAM. And as they lay and looked into the room, It wavered, changed, dissolved beneath the sun, Which mingled both the mornings in their eyes, Till the true conquered, and the unreal passed. No walls, but woods bathed in a level sun; No ceiling, but the vestal sky of morn; No bed, but flowers floating 'mid floating leaves On water which grew audible as they stirred And lifted up their heads. And a low wind That flowed from out the west, washed from their eye The last films of the dream. And they sat up, Silent for one long cool delicious breath, Gazing upon each other lost and found, With a dumb ecstasy, new, undefined. Followed a long embrace, and then the oars Broke up their prison-bands. And through the woods They slowly went, beneath a firmament Of boughs, and clouded leaves, filmy and pale In the sunshine, but shadowy on the grass. And roving odours met them on their way, Sun-quickened odours, which the fog had slain. And their green sky had many a blossom-moon, And constellations thick with starry flowers. And deep and still were all the woods, except For the Memnonian, glory-stricken birds; And golden beetles 'mid the shadowy roots, Green goblins of the grass, and mining mice; And on the leaves the fairy butterflies, Or doubting in the air, scarlet and blue. The divine depth of summer clasped the Earth.