Beauty for Ashes

Beauty for ashes thou hast brought me, dear!
A time there was when all my soul lay waste,
As ere the dawn the earth lies dark and drear,
Whereto the golden feet of morn make haste.

Like morn thou camest, blessings in thy hands,
And gracious pity round thine ardent mouth,—
Like dews of morning upon waiting lands,
Thy tender tears refreshed my spirit's drouth.

To-day is calm. Far off the tempest raves
That long ago swept dead men to the shore,—
I can forget the madness of the waves,—
Against my hopes and me they break no more.

White butterflies flit shining in the sun,—
Red roses burst to bloom upon the tree,—
Birds call to birds till the glad day is done,
The day of beauty thou hast brought to me.

Shall I forget, O gentle heart and true,
How thy fair dawn has risen on my night,—
Turned dark to day, all golden through and through,—
From soil of grief won bloom of new delight?