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93
A MAY MORN.
Last night the town was close and warm,
But while we slept, arose a storm:
And now how clear
And cool and fresh the morning air.
But while we slept, arose a storm:
And now how clear
And cool and fresh the morning air.
Between the swarthy trunks I walk,
Which she made lovely with her talk,
Saying;—‘Dear love,
‘I see these branches from above;
Which she made lovely with her talk,
Saying;—‘Dear love,
‘I see these branches from above;
‘And when you are no longer here,
I say—'t was there he called me “dear,”
His pride—his pet;—
So, absent, you are with me yet.’
I say—'t was there he called me “dear,”
His pride—his pet;—
So, absent, you are with me yet.’
94
How still it is!—the city lies
Behind, half hidden from the eyes;
And from the tops
Of trees around the moisture drops.
Behind, half hidden from the eyes;
And from the tops
Of trees around the moisture drops.
A bird with scarlet on his wings,
Down in the meadow sits and sings;
Beneath his weight
The long corn-tassels undulate.
Down in the meadow sits and sings;
Beneath his weight
The long corn-tassels undulate.
The thrush and red-bird in the brake
Flit up and from the blossoms shake,
Across the grass,
A fragrant shower where I pass.
Flit up and from the blossoms shake,
Across the grass,
A fragrant shower where I pass.
Ah, thank God for this peace and rest,
But more for that within my breast—
How with a song
The very river ebbs along.
But more for that within my breast—
How with a song
The very river ebbs along.
95
A song indeed most musical
To him who on death's threshold shall
Revive to know
The faint and melancholy flow.
To him who on death's threshold shall
Revive to know
The faint and melancholy flow.
Yet still the same as when he stood
With musing eyes bent on the flood,
And smiled to hear
The ripples say—‘I love thee, dear!’
With musing eyes bent on the flood,
And smiled to hear
The ripples say—‘I love thee, dear!’
Not that they said so in good sooth,
But that he—(I, in simple truth!)—
Seemed thence to hear
The words that in my bosom were:
But that he—(I, in simple truth!)—
Seemed thence to hear
The words that in my bosom were:
As once she said them with the braid
That bound her throbbing temples, laid
Against my cheek,
So I could even feel her speak.
That bound her throbbing temples, laid
Against my cheek,
So I could even feel her speak.
96
And when she, blushing, ceased,—and I
Was mute with joy—the ripples nigh
Took up the strain,
And said,—‘I love thee, Sweet!’—again.
Was mute with joy—the ripples nigh
Took up the strain,
And said,—‘I love thee, Sweet!’—again.
And thenceforth all that once was fair,
Grew fairer:—what unsightly were,
Divine, if she
But praised them incidentally.
Grew fairer:—what unsightly were,
Divine, if she
But praised them incidentally.
For she is dearer to me, than
Was ever woman yet to man;
Are one, be sure,
Her life and mine for evermore.
Was ever woman yet to man;
Are one, be sure,
Her life and mine for evermore.
1847.
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