 | Songs of Consolation |  |
16
SUMMER-VOICES.
“I LOVE you! Oh, I love you!” What other shall I say?
What is there else in Nature or in the world of men?
Without into the garden I look and see the wren
Perched high upon the swinging, the springing apple-spray,
His heart and soul out-singing unto the Summer day,
Just as he sang in golden, far olden times erewhen;
And nothing else he singeth, yea, nothing now as then,
But, “O my sweet, I love you, I love you now in May!”
What is there else in Nature or in the world of men?
Without into the garden I look and see the wren
Perched high upon the swinging, the springing apple-spray,
His heart and soul out-singing unto the Summer day,
Just as he sang in golden, far olden times erewhen;
And nothing else he singeth, yea, nothing now as then,
But, “O my sweet, I love you, I love you now in May!”
Far out I hear to westward the cuckoo's chiming note;
I hear the finches fluting among the tree-tops tall;
The bees are coming, humming, about the tulip-beds;
The butterflies are flitting around the blue-bell heads:
From all the same song cometh; they have it still by rote;
“I love you, love you, love you!” They murmur, one and all.
I hear the finches fluting among the tree-tops tall;
The bees are coming, humming, about the tulip-beds;
The butterflies are flitting around the blue-bell heads:
From all the same song cometh; they have it still by rote;
“I love you, love you, love you!” They murmur, one and all.
| Songs of Consolation | |