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Dawn.
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The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | ||
Dawn.
The Rose.When think you comes the Wind,
The Wind that kisses me and is so kind?
Lo, how the Lily sleeps! her sleep is light;
Would I were like the Lily, pale and white!
Will the Wind come?
37
Perchance for you too soon.
The Rose.
If not, how could I live until the noon?
What, think you, Beech-tree, makes the Wind delay?
Why comes he not at breaking of the day?
The Beech.
Hush, child, and, like the Lily, go to sleep.
The Rose.
You know I cannot.
The Beech.
Nay, then, do not weep.
(After a pause.)
Your lover comes, be happy now, O Rose!
He softly through my bending branches goes.
Soon he shall come, and you shall feel his kiss.
The Rose.
Already my flushed heart grows faint with bliss;
Love, I have longed for you through all the night.
The Wind.
And I to kiss your petals warm and bright.
The Rose.
Laugh round me, Love, and kiss me; it is well.
Nay, have no fear, the Lily will not tell.
The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | ||