Читать книгу The Triumph of Music, and Other Lyrics - Cawein Madison Julius - Страница 8

Were we in May now, while

Our souls are yearning,

Sad hearts would bound and smile

With red blood burning;

Around the tedious dial

No slow hands turning.

Were we in May now, say,

What joy to know

Her heart's streams pulse away

In winds that blow,

See graceful limbs of May

Revealed to glow.

Were we in May now, think

What wealth she has;

The dog-tooth violets pink,

Wind-flowers like glass,

About the wood brook's brink

Dark sassafras.

Nights, which the large stars strew

Heav'n on heav'n rolled,

Nights, whose feet flash with dew,

Whose long locks hold

Aromas cool and new,

A moon's curved gold.

This makes me sad in March;

I long and long

To see the red-bud's torch

Flame far and strong,

Hear on my vine-climbed porch

The blue-bird's song.

What else then but to sleep

And cease from such;

Dream of her and to leap

At her white touch?

Ah me! then wake and weep,

Weep overmuch.

This is why day by day

Time lamely crawls,

Feet clogged with winter clay

That never falls,

While the dim month of May

Me far off calls.