 | Poems of Sidney Lanier |  |
105
THE DOVE.
If haply thou, O Desdemona Morn,
Shouldst call along the curving sphere, “Remain,
Dear Night, sweet Moor; nay, leave me not in scorn!”
With soft halloos of heavenly love and pain;—
Shouldst call along the curving sphere, “Remain,
Dear Night, sweet Moor; nay, leave me not in scorn!”
With soft halloos of heavenly love and pain;—
Shouldst thou, O Spring! a-cower in coverts dark,
'Gainst proud supplanting Summer sing thy plea,
And move the mighty woods through mailèd bark
Till mortal heart-break throbbed in every tree;—
'Gainst proud supplanting Summer sing thy plea,
And move the mighty woods through mailèd bark
Till mortal heart-break throbbed in every tree;—
Or (grievous if that may be yea o'er-soon!),
If thou, my Heart, long holden from thy Sweet,
Shouldst knock Death's door with mellow shocks of tune,
Sad inquiry to make—When may we meet?
If thou, my Heart, long holden from thy Sweet,
Shouldst knock Death's door with mellow shocks of tune,
Sad inquiry to make—When may we meet?
Nay, if ye three, O Morn! O Spring! O Heart!
Should chant grave unisons of grief and love;
Ye could not mourn with more melodious art
Than daily doth yon dim sequestered dove.
Should chant grave unisons of grief and love;
Ye could not mourn with more melodious art
Than daily doth yon dim sequestered dove.
Chadd's Ford, Pennsylvania, 1877.
| Poems of Sidney Lanier | |