 | The Poetical Works of John Payne |  |
ARCADES AMBO.
BIRDS at morning-red
Each to other said,
“See, the winter's over;
Soon it will be Spring.”
But, before the night,
All the world was white
And each feathered rover
For the South a-wing.
Each to other said,
“See, the winter's over;
Soon it will be Spring.”
But, before the night,
All the world was white
And each feathered rover
For the South a-wing.
Quoth my heart one day,
“Love is come to stay:
Soul, have done with sorrow;
Give thyself to glee.”
But, ere day was done,
Light Love with the sun
Fled, and on the morrow,
Woe, ah woe was me!
“Love is come to stay:
Soul, have done with sorrow;
Give thyself to glee.”
But, ere day was done,
Light Love with the sun
Fled, and on the morrow,
Woe, ah woe was me!
Quoth the bud at morn,
“With my girth of thorn,
Who shall do me evil?
Am I not the rose?”
But, alack to tell!
Ere the midnight fell,
Came a frost uncivil
And the blossom froze.
“With my girth of thorn,
Who shall do me evil?
Am I not the rose?”
336
Ere the midnight fell,
Came a frost uncivil
And the blossom froze.
Quoth I to my soul,
“Thou hast reached thy goal:
Me no more importune
With thy doubts and fears.”
But, ere I had spoken,
Lo! the spell was broken;
With a back-blow, Fortune
Turned my smiles to tears.
“Thou hast reached thy goal:
Me no more importune
With thy doubts and fears.”
But, ere I had spoken,
Lo! the spell was broken;
With a back-blow, Fortune
Turned my smiles to tears.
| The Poetical Works of John Payne | |