的叶子和荆棘希尔和空洞的过来gather!' the children cried; 'The sun goes down, and the night will follow, A moonless night on the dark hillside.' All ways they wandered ? the dry twigs snapping, With laugh and prattle and song between; Down on the rocks the waves were lapping, The long swell swaying the seaweed green. And she stood by in her white sun-bonnet, All lace and snow on her tressy hair, With a gold king-beetle dreaming on it A lotus dream in the lustrous air. Was it love, or a dove in the tall tree cooing? Was it love, or a dove that loitered nigh? The eventide is the hour for wooing ? But I was silent, and she was shy. Then suddenly rose a far faint humming, A growing noise in the evening hush, And the prattle of children homeward coming, Laden with spoil of the gold-brown bush. 'Leaves and brambles from hill and hollow! The way was tangled, and tangles tire. The sun goes down and the night will follow, ? Now down on your knees and make us a fire!' The leaves were wet (how a storm may hinder!) The brambles damp with a shower at noon; She bent to help . . .and my heart of tinder, Ah, why did it burst to flame so soon? 'Dry leaves, dry leaves from the twilight forest, Or bark that is sheltered, or hidden ferns: Dry leaves, dry leaves!' the children chorused, 'The drier the leaf the redder it burns!' The fire leapt up with a sudden glancing, The first flame flushing her hands of snow; And round about went the children dancing, Their faces lit by the rosy glow. That fire has gone beyond all returning, For wild winds scatter and chill rains drench: All dust the leaves; but a fire is burning That wind or water shall never quench. Ah, leaves and brambles from hill and hollow! And two together, and violet eyes . . . The sun goes down, and love must follow, A quenchless fire, and a flame that dies.