 | Louise de la Valliaere and other poems |  |
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WANDERERS.
Ah, my beloved! my best is all your dueAlways—my love, and faith, and loyalty.
And in your gain so very poor am I,
What marvel that my thoughts, grown recreant too,
Should seek a happier resting-place with you!
Leaving a wintry heart and waning sky,
Flying across the world as swallows fly
To a new summer, and new skies of blue.
I wonder will you know them when they come,
Fanning your face and hair with homeless wings,
Drifting in some grey storm-hour to your breast!
Ah! will you take them with glad murmurings,
And stroke the wet wings, faint with wind and foam,
And lay them in your heart, and bid them rest?
| Louise de la Valliaere and other poems | |