The Poetry Corner

The Memory Of Earth

By George William Russell

In the wet dusk silver-sweet, Down the violet scented ways, As I moved with quiet feet I was met by mighty days. On the hedge the hanging dew Glassed the eve and stars and skies; While I gazed a madness grew Into thundered battle cries. Where the hawthorn glimmered white, Flashed the spear and fell the stroke-- Ah, what faces pale and bright Where the dazzling battle broke! There a hero-hearted queen With young beauty lit the van. Gone! the darkness flowed between All the ancient wars of man. While I paced the valley's gloom Where the rabbits pattered near, Shone a temple and a tomb With the legend carven clear: 'Time put by a myriad fates That her day might dawn in glory. Death made wide a million gates So to close her tragic story.'