Immortal Sleep for a second stayed the vast The 

 waves of Peace — the divine messengers, or Gardens 

 were they the listening powers and dominions g ea 

 of the earth, fulfilled destiny. From every 

 flower-nation, from every people by far waters, 

 from every tribe in dim woods and the wilder- 

 ness, from every clan habiting the most far 

 hills beyond the ever - receding pale blue 

 horizons, song was taken as stars are pluckt 

 away from the Night by the grey fingers of the 

 Dawn. The Rose breathed no more a flusht 

 magic of sound ; the Lily no more exhaled 

 a foam white cadence. Silence was come upon 

 the wild chant of orchids in old, forgotten 

 woods ; stillness upon the tinkling cymbals 

 of the little hands of the dim, myriad, incalcul- 

 able host of blossom ; a hush upon the songs 

 of meadow-flowers ; a spell upon the singing 

 of honeysuckles in the white dews at the 

 rising of the moon. Everywhere, from all the 

 green tribes, from all the glowing nations of 

 Flowry, from each and every of the wandering 

 folk of the Heed, the Moss, and the Lichen, 

 from all the Clans of the Grass, the added 

 loveliness of song was taken. Silence fell 

 upon one and all : a strange and awful stillness 

 came upon the woods and valleys. It was 

 then that the God of Youth, wandering 

 through the hushed world, took the last song 



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