UNDER the fluent folds of needlework, <br />Where Balkis prick'd the histories of kings <br />Once great as he, that were as greatly loved, <br />Solomon stooped, and saw the dusk unfold <br />Over the apple orchards like a flower. <br />'O bloom of eve,' he said, 'diviner loss <br />Of all light gave us, dove of the whole world, <br />Bearing the branch of peace, the dark, sweet bough,– <br />Endure a little longer, ere full night <br />Comes stark from God and terrible with stars, <br />Eternal as He or love. <br /> <br />Now no one wakes, <br />But a lean gardener by my apricots, <br />Sweeping the withered leaves, the yellowing leaves <br />Down the wind's road. Perish our years with them, <br />Our griefs, our little hungers, our poor sins, <br />Leaves that the Lord hath scattered. He shall quench <br />The fierce, impetuous torches of the sun,– <br />Yea, from our dead dust He shall quicken kings, <br />Unleash new battles, sharpen spears unborn, <br />Shadow on shadow; but His stars remain <br />Immortal, and love immortal crowned with them.' <br /> <br />Night came, and all the hosts thereof. He saw <br />Arcturus clear the doorways of the cloud, <br />And One that followed with his shining sons, <br />In the likeness of a gardener that strode <br />Over the windy hollows of the sky, <br />And with a great broom drave the stars in heaps,– <br />The yellow stars, the little withering stars, <br />Faint drifts along the darkness. New stars came, <br />Budded, and flowered, and fell. These too He swept, <br />And all the heavens were changed. <br /> <br />Then Solomon stood <br />Silent, nor ever turned to the Queen's kiss.<br /><br />Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ecclesiastes-4/
