On Viol and Flute By Edmund W. Gosse |
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XIX. | XIX.
UNDER THE APPLE-TREE. |
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On Viol and Flute | ||
37
XIX. UNDER THE APPLE-TREE.
Against her breast I set my head, and layBeneath the summer fruitage of a tree,
Whose boughs last spring had borne for her and me
The fleeting blossom of a doubtful day;
That rose and white had tasted swift decay,
And now the swelling fruits of certainty
Hung there like pale green lamps, and fair to see,
And I was strong to dream the hours away
Against her breast;
Her satins rustled underneath my head,
Stirred by the motions of her perfect heart,
But she was silent, till at last she said,—
While all her countenance flushed rosy-red,—
“Dear love! oh! stay forever where thou art,
Against my breast!”
On Viol and Flute | ||