| |
| IN summer time, with high imaginings | |
| Of proud Crusaders and of Paynim kings, | |
| The children crowned themselves with famous names, | |
| And fought there, building up their merry games, | |
| Their mimic war, from old majestic things. | 5 |
| |
| There was no bitter hate then in the fight, | |
| For ancient law ruled victory and flight, | |
| And, victory and defeat alike forgot, | |
| They slept together in the selfsame cot, | |
| With arms about each other through the night. | 10 |
| |
| Ah, did our greatest on the battle-field | |
| See such a love, all magical, revealed, | |
| Pausing in combat? did they recognise | |
| Kinships in Tirnanoge through flashing eyes, | |
| What lovely brotherhood the foe concealed? | 15 |
| |
| And did they know, when all fierce wars were done, | |
| To what high home or dun their feet would run? | |
| What outstretched love would meet them at the gate? | |
| And that the end of the long road of hate | |
| Was adoration when the goal was won? | 20 |
| |
| Could you and I but of each other say | |
| From what a lordly House we took our way, | |
| And to what Hostel of the Gods we wend, | |
| Oh would we not anticipate the end? | |
| Oh would we not have paradise to-day? | 25 |
| |
