 | Song in September |  |
95
AT VARLEY
As my sunny self went homing
In the loveliness of gloaming
Through the hedges looking over
Little continents of clover,
Nought to me was all the treasure
Kings and Emperors can measure,
Since the Child Beloved was waiting
For my heart's tumultuous mating
There at Varley.
In the loveliness of gloaming
Through the hedges looking over
Little continents of clover,
Nought to me was all the treasure
Kings and Emperors can measure,
Since the Child Beloved was waiting
For my heart's tumultuous mating
There at Varley.
Near the honeysuckle's wreathing
(Hardly sweeter is the breathing
Of the Child Beloved) a wonder
Took my heart with Cupid's thunder,
And my veins were all a-filling
With a kind of precious thrilling
That compelled my lips to rushes
Of a song as ripe as thrush's
In the evening.
(Hardly sweeter is the breathing
Of the Child Beloved) a wonder
Took my heart with Cupid's thunder,
And my veins were all a-filling
With a kind of precious thrilling
That compelled my lips to rushes
Of a song as ripe as thrush's
In the evening.
96
Then I guessed her come from Varley
By the field-path through the barley
To the roadway's leafy turning,
There with Love and frolic burning.
How my arms went fire-fast round her
When beside the thorn I found her
In the old blue muslin waiting
For my heart's tumultuous mating
Close to Varley!
By the field-path through the barley
To the roadway's leafy turning,
There with Love and frolic burning.
How my arms went fire-fast round her
When beside the thorn I found her
In the old blue muslin waiting
For my heart's tumultuous mating
Close to Varley!
| Song in September | |