Poems (Taylor)/Hidden

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HIDDEN
  Three nuns at owlet-call
   Tell o'er their rosaries:
But dreams they drop where prayers must fall.
   And so, not theirs the Peace!

  Calm leagues of silver sand
   Beside the convent lie:
The great grey waters builded stand
   Against a great grey sky.

  Beyond the bastioned sea,
   Amid a prick of spears,
Through almond groves ride wearily
   Three golden cavaliers.

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  Ever the life uncrowned!
   Never the seal of fire!
Nor marriage-music surging round
   The Heart and her Desire!

  O red wild-roses, be
   Mourners awhile for these!
Hidden roses, white and three,
   Die by the Virgin's knees.

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