The Poetical Works of Robert Browning | ||
165
MAY AND DEATH.
I
I wish that when you died last May,Charles, there had died along with you
Three parts of spring's delightful things;
Ay, and, for me, the fourth part too.
II
A foolish thought, and worse, perhaps!There must be many a pair of friends
Who, arm in arm, deserve the warm
Moon-births and the long evening-ends.
III
So, for their sake, be May still May!Let their new time, as mine of old,
Do all it did for me: I bid
Sweet sights and sounds throng manifold.
166
IV
Only, one little sight, one plant,Woods have in May, that starts up green
Save a sole streak which, so to speak,
Is spring's blood, spilt its leaves between,—
V
That, they might spare; a certain woodMight miss the plant; their loss were small:
But I,—whene'er the leaf grows there,
Its drop comes from my heart, that's all.
The Poetical Works of Robert Browning | ||