And lips that once were proud to praise
Forget to call thee fair,
Sigh but my name, and though I be
Mute in the churchyard mould,
I will arise and come to thee,
And worship as of old.
And should I meet the wrinkled brow,
Or find the silver tress,
What were’t to me, it would be thou,
I could not love thee less.
‘Gainst love time wages bootless strife,
What now is would be then;
The cry that brought me back to life
Would make thee young again.
And the sod is upliftedBy crocus spears;And out of the hive the bee wings humming,And we know that the Spring, the Spring, is coming.For the snow hath meltedFrom sunless cleft,And the clouds that peltedSlant sleet have leftThe sky as blue as a child’s gaze afterIts tears have vanished and veered to laughter.See! light is gleamingIn…
Splendour, and revelry, and all that bringsA thousand bitter thoughts, a world of woe:A meadow glistening in an April shower,A green-banked rivulet, and, near his nest,A blackbird carolling in guelder bower,‘Tis these that soothe and satisfy the breast.’
Forum, and field, and Senate-House were rentWith cries of nor misgiving nor lament,Only of men contending now who shouldPurchase the spot on which the Victor stood.Legion on legion sprang up from the ground,Gleamed through the land, and over ocean wound,Till Scipio’s eagles swarmed on Afric’s shore,And Carthage perished, to insult no more.Not less resolved than…
Teems, to light toil, with ready sustenance.What though from splendid palace streams at dawnNo servile train, gaping at inlaid gates,Corinthian bronzes, garments tricked with gold;What though for them no snow-white wool be stainedBy Eastern dyes, nor oil be smeared with nard,Secure tranquillity is theirs, a lifeOf rural wealth, from galling failure free,Of ample leisure amid…
And slowly over leaf and lawnIs twilight’s dewy curtain drawn.The slouching vixen leaves her lair,And, prowling, sniffs the tell-tale air.The frogs croak louder in the dyke,And all the trees seem dark alike:The bee is drowsing in the comb,The sharded beetle hath gone home:Good-night!Good-night! The hawk is in his nest,And the last rook hath dropped to…
Singest thou still with all thy might,As though ’twere noon, as though ’twere dawn?Silence darkens on vale and hill,But thou, unseen, art singing still.‘Tis because, though in dusky bower,With love delighted still thou art;Nor hath the deepening twilight powerTo lay a curfew on thy heart.Thou lovest; and, loving, dost prolongThe sense of sunlight with thy…
