Many are the colours of the Rainbow reflected in the Dewdrops that shiver on the grass, but there is only One Light, and the Sea is One.

Fragments of rhythms I heard in manifold twi

light places:

The cry of a broken wave, a wild breath of the

passing storm,

A flutter of deeds and dreams, and a lilt of vanishing faces,

A flash from the wings of the Thought that is somewhere a radiant Form.

THE ONE AND THE MANY

PEACEFUL as evening, white as hawthorn

boughs,

Dark as the sea, tumultuous from of old, Beauty has built her shrine on many brows, And her dreams are manifold.

White hawthorn boughs make heaven of the

blue sky,

White daisies mob the green ways of the

ground,

White waves at twilight, breaking sigh on sigh, Pass beyond sight or sound.

B

2 THE ONE AND THE MANY We who have seen the spirit of the spring Die downward to the lowly life of grass, Whilst the dark earth holds fast each soar

ing wing

Dream that all dreams must pass.

Yet Beauty, robed in silence and white Peace,

Leans from the stars and fills not any grave, Nor ceases when the daisies fade and cease, Nor breaks with the broken wave,

Deeper than twilight, whiter than the may, Lo, she hath built her house of wind and

sun,

Her coloured robe may change from day to

day,

But the soul of Beauty is One.

IN THE PINEWOODS

HERE the white stars brood high above the austere pines,

And the long pine stems seem to gather up the shadowy stream

Of the earth's beauty, all her flowing curves and rapturous lines,

Folded together and lifted up in a long ecstatic dream.

Here in the silent wood Beauty and Peace join hands at last,

And all the wars of the world have shrivelled

and fallen away,