HAST thou heard the voice of my Belov'd? Alack! is he silent still? Didst thou smell the perfume of his locks As he skipped upon the hill? Did he say: "Go down and greet my Bride Amid the tents of Kedar? In the house whose rafters are of fir, Whose casements are of cedar. Is she dreaming at the pleasant feast All laved in spice and roses? With cool ointment on her throat and hands From secret garden-closes. O, why must I dwell far from her And from her running fountains? I am lonely on the barren heights, Yet God calls from the mountains. ..." Behold! if ye hear my lover cry As Ammi-nadib's lances, Then say: "She sleeps but her heart waketh, She neither sings nor dances." As fish-pools of Heshbon weep her eyes, As willows trail her tresses, Her neck is like a drooping tower, She yearns for thy caresses. Come down from the hills and harp to her, Come down and stay her sorrow: Is not the winter over and past And lilies bloom to-morrow? Yet she only saith: "He bideth long, Ah, when is he returning?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CORONAL by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE MASK by CLARISSA SCOTT DELANY COUSIN NANCY by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT THE LONG HILL by SARA TEASDALE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 47 by ALFRED TENNYSON TWO KINDS OF RICHES by WILLIAM BLAKE |