autumn noon
The door is open to the wall , The air is bright and free ; Adown the stair , across the hall , And then-the world and me ; The bare grey bent , the running stream , The fire beside the shore ; And we will bid the hearth farewell , And never seek it more , My love , And never seek it more . And you shall wear no silken gown , No maid shall bind your hair ; The yellow broom shall be your gem , Your braid the heather rare . Athwart the moor , adown the hill , Across the world away ; The path is long for happy hearts That sing to greet the day , My love , That sing to greet the day . When morning cleaves the eastern grey , And the lone hills are red When sunsets light the evening way And birds are quieted ; In autumn noon and springtide dawn , By hill and dale and sea , The world shall sing its ancient song Of hope and joy for thee , My love , Of hope and joy for thee . And at the last no solemn stole Shall on thy breast be laid ; No mumbling priest shall speed thy soul , No charnel vault thee shade . But by the shadowed hazel copse , Aneath the greenwood tree , Where airs are soft and waters sing , Thou ` lt ever sleep by me , My love , Thou ` lt ever sleep by me . `` C'est enfin que dans leurs prunelles Rit et pleure-fastidieux -- L'amour des choses eternelles Des vieux morts et des anciens dieux ! ''