Come, come, my Love, the morning waits, What magic now shall greet our sight! What butterflies Before our eyes Shall vanish in the open light! Come, while the Sun has power to strike Our household fires all dead and cold! How softly now The wind can blow -- When carrying off a field of gold! Come, when behind some leafy hedge We'll see a snow-white, new-born lamb No man has set His eyes on yet -- Where it lies sleeping near its dam. Come, come, my Love, the morning waits, The Sun is high, the dew has gone! The air's as bright As though the light Of twelve May mornings came in one. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COMING AMERICAN by SAM WALTER FOSS DANIEL WEBSTER by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES THE HABIT OF PERFECTION by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS ULTIMA THULE: THE CHAMBER OVER THE GATE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW CUMNOR HALL by WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE |