THE TREE OF LIFE

by: Robert Buchanan (1841-1901)

HE MASTER said:

‘I have planted the Seed of a Tree,

It shall be strangely fed

With white dew and with red,

And the Gardeners shall be three–

Regret, Hope, Memory!’

 

The Master smiled:

For the Seed that He had set

Broke presently thro’ the mould,

With a glimmer of green and gold,

And the Angels’ eyes were wet–

Hope, Memory, Regret.

 

The Master cried:

‘It liveth–breatheth–see!

Its soft lips open wide–

It looks from side to side–

How strange they gleam on me,

The little dim eyes of the Tree!’

 

The Master said:

‘After a million years,

The Seed I set and fed

To itself hath gatherèd

All the world’s smiles and tears–

How mighty it appears!’

 

The Master said:

‘At last, at last, I see

A Blossom, a Blossom o’ red

From the heart of the Tree is shed.

’Tis fairer certainly

Than the Tree, or the leaves of the Tree.’

 

The Master cried:

‘O Angels, that guard the Tree,

A Blossom, a Blossom divine

Grows on this greenwood of mine:

What may this Blossom be?

Name this Blossom to me!’

 

The Master smiled;

For the Angels answered thus:

‘Our tears have nourish’d the same,

We have given it a name

That seemeth fit to us–

We have called it Spiritus.’

 

The Master said:

‘This Flower no Seed shall bear;

But hither on a day

My beautiful Son shall stray,

And shall snatch it unaware,

And wreath it in his hair.’

 

The Master smiled:

‘The Tree shall never bear–

Seedless shall perish the Tree,

But the Flower my Son’s shall be;

He will pluck the Flower and wear,

Till it withers in his hair!’

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