University of Virginia Library


161

II.

Sweet Spring were this, if half its dreams came true.
One timid tender blossom found most fair,
Twin born with dreams, I tend with subtlest care
Far out of sight,—an orange-blossom too,—
Till, in my maiden's eyes a strange soft dew
Sometime makes bold my heart to hers to unbare,
And hers unfolds a sister-blossom there.
Not yet she guesses: First I tell it you!
But ah! I have small faith in flowers of May,
Nor think vows bind the bloom with one breath strown;
For still, in poets' hearts, it is the way
For many a love to wither ere 'tis grown;
And still my heart, that woos this maid to-day,
Finds, oft, to-morrow waiting with its own.