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The grass grows in the cobbled Minster-square, And mignonette blooms on the window-sills Of gabled quiet houses ; noonday stills The sunshot silence, holy as a prayer Breathed by some soul untainted of the world; The perfume of the green flowers like a dream Steals through the sweet noon in a subtle stream; The greyness of the Minster shines sun-pearled. Beneath a carving of the ivory-bearded And golden-crowned three Magi of Cologne A white cat sleeps extended in the sun :
The manuscript of the blue day is worded With strict Seraphic text; the Eternal Throne Stands as it stood ere Time was first begun.
Wilfred Childe.