Deep in long seedling grass the meadows lie, Bedappled by the shadows of the trees: Now and again the bloom-enamoured breeze Comes for one little moment rustling by: The great soft moon with drench of golden dye Enchants the world, till all the glimmering leas Give forth strange, warmth. Were all one's hours like these, It were not hard, love, for us twain to die! For grief is dead now. Listen, only list To yon bird's voice: o'er bloomy orchard ground, Where bridal trees rise islanded in mist, Floats out the singing of the nightingale! 'Oh, love, love, love, love lost, love suddenly found'— Such is her descant. Nay, but thou art pale! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A TOCCATA OF GALUPPI'S by ROBERT BROWNING CHRISMUS ON THE PLANTATION by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE NEW YEAR by ALFRED TENNYSON BALLADE OF EGREGIOUSNESS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 80, 81. GHAFOOR, MUNTAKIM by EDWIN ARNOLD CHILD OF MARY'S SOUL by SUSIE MONTGOMERY BEST |