How joy was found a fantasy

All my life’s a song to me Like the lovely alder-tree. All the years I’ve left behind Are translated in my mind Into something new and free, Like the seed-pod on the tree. All that’s past is unforgotten; I have wrapped it up in cotton, Like the larva that I see In the leaf upon the tree. It will grow and change and gather Knowledge of a mind, its Father; Some morning in its glee It will float above the tree. Oh, to-day I’m twenty-seven! Just a little nearer Heaven Than I ever used to be When I climbed the alder-tree. For I feel at last that I, Like the larva, change and fly Yet a grander, fuller me, On the self-same alder-tree. FINN [_Who has listened with delight to the song._] You’re a very eccentric sort of girl. CLIMBER [_Coming down hastily._] No! Eccentricity I hate! It’s just a name for off the straight; And, if you’ll only pay me more attention, You’ll find it’s almost too far off to mention. [_Finn looks at her doubtfully._] CLIMBER [_Coaxingly._] I wish you’d let me take a share Of that old box you’re carrying there. FINN [_Hastily._] I wouldn’t dream of such a thing! CLIMBER Take care! It needs a stronger piece of string. And if you drop it, that would be a pity; It looks as if the contents were so pretty. What is inside it? May I know? FINN Guess! CLIMBER I can’t. It seems to show All bright about the edge. [_She tries the weight._] I can’t see quite What makes it heavy when it looks so light? FINN Tears of all sorts, and colours to suit each eye. CLIMBER Then why Is it so light when it feels such a weight? FINN Oh! that’s just Fate. A glint of laughter Getting through each tear A little after. CLIMBER [_Clapping her hands._] Oh dear! How beautiful! I’ve guessed it—a rainbow! You’ve got a rainbow there, I knew last night the morning would be fair! FINN [_Astonished._] How did you guess? CLIMBER I saw the rain-clouds yesterday Coming up Crianlarich way, Black as peat and full of dark. Suddenly God set His mark Over them all in a rainbow, And so I knew The sun was somewhere getting through, And, turning, saw him come Hurriedly over the hills above Tyndrum. [_She turns and sees Finn looking at her with a wistful expression._] What are you thinking about? FINN Nothing at all. A dream. CLIMBER Look out! They are not what they seem! FINN They’re harmless enough. They aren’t real. CLIMBER They’re made of stuff That’s very apt to steal Intact Into actual fact. For instance, look at these. [_She points to some mountain pansies in the grass._] FINN Explain the connection, please. CLIMBER Don’t you see it, sumph? FINN Umph! They seem to give you a lot of pleasure. CLIMBER [_Sniffing delightedly._] Yes, without measure. Don’t they give it you? FINN Oh! Well enough. Though, as a rule, I think That I prefer a more substantial stuff, Something to eat or drink, Yet somehow now I feel dead beat; I couldn’t stand the sight of meat. CLIMBER [_Rapturously._] Oh, I could feed On flowers for ever! FINN Well, then, you must be very clever. CLIMBER [_Hastily._] Oh no! there is no need. It happened through a violet’s power, For that’s my favourite flower. [_Shyly, in a burst of sudden confidence._] I’ll tell you how it came about If you’d care to find out. FINN [_Settling himself on the bank._] All right, I don’t mind if you do; But it won’t be the same for me as you. CLIMBER [_Sitting up and clasping her hands round her knees shyly._] I was attracted by a violet, For purple’s my favourite colour, and you get Such a delightful perfume out of these When the wind makes a breeze Among the petals. God said: “That settles It. Now she’ll come back here Another year, And look for me where she has found her pleasure.” I did not measure God’s far arrangement thus; but sure enough (Since purple’s my favourite colour), when the puff Of spring cast up her wild young flowery wrack, I looked to see if the violet were blown back. [_She begins to lose her self-consciousness. Finn watches her interestedly._] Sufficient she was there! I pushed my hair Back from my brow, and on my knees I went To catch her scent. Oh, it was joy I thought would never cloy! And God, who saw me on the grass beside That purple pride, Laughed softly to Himself, and said: “I knew She’d not resist My blue. Now I’ll be bound she’ll come again next year To find my fragrance here.” [_She continues with increasing animation, having quite lost all self-consciousness._] In very deed I came, But now a flame Of ultra-violet flickered on my thought. It wasn’t just the scent that brought Me back like that, nor yet the lovely blue; It was because I felt that God was true. And that was how, having had my attention called To something that came back and never palled, But seemed each year more lovely than the last, I passed To looking for the far-off deeper things That God had tucked behind the violet’s wings. I said to myself: “This is some sort of sign Of constancy divine, And I expect there must be some such mark Set on our ultimate dark; For we are all just one material here— My heart, the violet clear. [_Dreamily, to herself._] Oh! Isn’t it delightful thus to grow Together yet apart a little while? God needs this time to shape us to the style Of His eternity, as, strong and slow, The separate shadows of the flowery prime Become one purple deep at evening-time. [_She takes a violet in her hands and looks at it. To herself._] Here’s all the evidence of things unseen, Delicious substance of a life to be, Where maybe I’ll share His identity, And we’ll be One to all eternity. FINN What? CLIMBER [_Who has forgotten that she is not alone, blushing self-consciously and starting violently._] Nothing! It’s not Meant for you to hear. FINN Go on about next year. CLIMBER [_Very shyly, with averted face._] Well, in the spring I came, with joyous thirst, To find the violet where I found her first; Till, kneeling there one day, I felt my heart Quicken and start, And pushing back the lid, to look within, I saw a thin Long tongue of lavender amid the red, And God knelt there, and spread His strong white hands above the warm, bright stain, And laughed, and said: “I have found faith again On earth.” [_She pauses, and adds in a whisper._] But I, too much amazed for mirth, Could only gaze and stammer: “Sir, not yet, It was Your violet.” [_There is silence. The Climber remains with shy averted face._] FINN [_After an embarrassed pause._] I don’t see how a violet’s shown You that. Tell me it all again. CLIMBER [_Jumping up, with a nervous laugh._] Oh dear! I wish I could explain Better. But it’s the sort of thing You’ll have to find alone. I’m off to bring The others. I’ll be back in a minute. [_She runs away, with a very red face. Finn yawns, sighs, and, picking a violet, sniffs and sniffs again._] FINN Delicious! I believe there’s something in it! [_He puts the violet in his buttonhole._] Even if it isn’t much It’s something I could almost touch A morsel of just now. [_Enter the Listener, whistling, and chipping himself a whistle out of an alder branch._] FINN Hallo! Where are the others? LISTENER Patching up the boat a bit in smothers Of spray. The wind seems blowing this way. [_He waves his hand in the direction in which the Climber has gone._] Still feeling sick? FINN Certainly not. I wasn’t sick! LISTENER Oh! I thought that was why You wouldn’t come down to tea, When you said you wished we’d let you die. FINN [_Hastily._] Certainly not! LISTENER Then why—— FINN [_Hurriedly._] There’s a sort of spell on me. I can’t consider common stuff like tea Until I have found the one that considers me. LISTENER [_Sympathetically._] I say! How beastly! Worse than being in love. FINN [_Indignantly._] Not at all! It’s not the least the same. LISTENER [_Innocently._] Why? What’s the difference? FINN [_Crossly._] Oh, go away! How should I know? LISTENER Would you like to hear what I heard up above The tree-tops, before I came Out of the wood? FINN [_Crossly._] Not unless it’s easily understood. LISTENER [_Cheerily._] Oh yes! It’s the sort of thing that any child could guess. [_He begins to pipe a very cheery little tune, and then stops and looks at Finn enquiringly._] FINN [_Brightening._] That’s not bad. Go on! LISTENER [_Beginning to sing._] Tiravee! Tiravee! Tiravee! The year has heard the spring In far recesses smouldering. Tiravee! Tiravee! Tiravee! The robins sing,