TENDER dawns peep from under night's gray cowl As from hard buds, pink, crimson, yellow, white, Their indolent yet lavish-souled avowal Each day advances;..loving, trusting light, Ripening towards that gorgeous disarray When petals loll and slide to languid heaps; For every rose confesses all she may To ease the kindness of her balmy deeps. Ah, thus the heart would open! thus the soul Longs to expand her self-approved intent In utter shameless bounty! but, poor fool, Fears others will read ill what well she meant; And so, pent up, her sweetness clots to stone, And kills the beauty that she dare not own. Your far-sent roses showing every day A less restrained abandon, ruined, seem More magical, more touching yet than they Were ever while life lifted each sweet dream Prim with composure through its odorous sleep. They brought immured Psyche to my mind, Over whose durance, told in tales, men weep, Though each her jailor be, deaf and unkind. But there! I thrust the thought away and smile; For these choice blossoms by her fair hand culled, Prove that you let her fetterless beguile The summer in deep garden lanes, till, lulled By flitting song-bird, zephyr-rustled tree, Her heart grew light enough to think of me. |