Читать книгу Days and Dreams: Poems - Madison Julius Cawein - Страница 4

Herein the dearness of her is:

The thirty perfect days of June

Made one, in beauty and in bliss

Were not more white to have to kiss,

To love not more in tune.

And oft I think she is too true,

Too innocent for our day;

For in her eyes her soul looks new—

Two crowfoot-blossoms watchet-blue

Are not more soft than they.

So good, so kind is she to me,

In darling ways and happy words,

Sometimes my heart fears she may be

Too much with God and secretly

Sweet sister to the birds.