Green and Golden

- Primula

When in the green and golden,
Where the silvered loom is warm,
The thread of days weave out the years
With peace safekept in charm.
The hand is yours that keeps from harm
Those sheltering ‘neath the leaves,
And in the green and golden
By dying days you cleave.

You did not always dwell here,
Naught here of childhood’s home;
For once you drew both light and breath
On shores and waves you’d roamed.
Long past settled ‘neath starry dome,
Star placed on hand so fair;
Amid the green and golden,
Light settling in your hair.