Open thy gate.

Cool is thy garden-plot, pleasant thy shade,
All things commend thee in thy place;
Dwelling on thy perfectness, O Sweet, I am afraid,
But, fearing, long to look upon thy face--
Open thy gate.

Over the ample globe, searching for thee,
Thee and thy garden have I come;
Ended my questing: no more, no more for me,
O Sweet, the pilgrim's sandals, call me home--
Open thy gate.

SUMMER IS COME

Summer is come; the corn is in the ear,
The haze is swimming where the beeches stand;
Summer is come, though winter months be here--
My love is summer passing through the land.

Summer is come; I hear the skylarks sing,
The honeysuckle flaunts it to the bees;
Summer is come, and 'tis not yet the spring--
My love is summer blessing all she sees.

Summer is come; I see an open door,
A sweet hand beckons, and I know
That, winter or summer, I shall go forth no more--
My heart is homing where her summer-roses grow.

O FLOWER OF ALL THE WORLD

O flower of all the world, O flower of all,
The garden where thou dwellest is so fair,
Thou art so goodly, and so queenly tall,
Thy sweetness scatters sweetness everywhere,
O flower of all!

O flower of all the years, O flower of all,
A day beside thee is a day of days;
Thy voice is softer than the throstle's call,
There is not song enough to sing thy praise,
O flower of all!

O flower of all the years, O flower of all,
I seek thee in thy garden, and I dare
To love thee; and though my deserts be small,
Thou art the only flower I would wear,
O flower of all!

WAS IT SOME GOLDEN STAR?

Once in another land,
Ages ago,
You were a queen, and I,
I loved you so:
Where was it that we loved--