28 June, The Chesterton Calendar

JUNE 28th

My Lady clad herself in grey,That caught and clung about her throat;Then all the long grey winter-dayOn me a living splendour smote;And why grey palmers holy are,And why grey minsters great in story,And grey skies ring the morning star,And grey hairs are a crown of glory.

My Lady clad herself in green,Like meadows where the wind-waves pass;Then round my spirit spread, I ween,A splendour of forgotten grass.Then all that dropped of stem or sod,Hoarded as emeralds might be,I bowed to every bush, and trodAmid the live grass fearfully.

My Lady clad herself in blue,Then on me, like the seer long gone,The likeness of a sapphire grew,The throne of him that sat thereon.Then knew I why the FashionerSplashed reckless blue on sky and sea;And ere 'twas good enough for her,He tried it on Eternity.

Beneath the gnarled old Knowledge-treeSat, like an owl, the evil sage:'The world's a bubble,' solemnlyHe read, and turned a second page.'A bubble, then, old crow,' I cried,'God keep you in your weary wit!A bubble—have you ever spiedThe colours I have seen on it?'
'A Chord of Colour.'