High in glory above the sun
Stands the city not made with hands,
Where Love makes merry for new hearts won,
For Love triumphant in many lands;
There his palace is fairly pearled;
There his throne is of royal gold;
But I have more in this lower world,
One glance of those eyes, though the hours are cold.
Under the boughs of the bare lime trees
Down in the meads on the daisied grass,
I was strolling at idle ease
Watching the strollers about me pass;
Was it a flash of the new born sun?
Was it a gleam from a bird's quick wing?
Whatever it was, it was love new won
And my heart of a sudden took heart to sing. —
A brother found in the young spring world,
A brother hailed by his golden glance;
The grass grew sweeter, the skies impearled
With a glory of gold, and the buds uncurled
And young birds flew in a circling dance.
With no word spoken, with no word thought,
With only the look of our unknown eyes —
But now I have lost what I never sought,
And rain is flooding my gleeful skies.