When the springtime is sweet And the birds repeat Their new song in the leaves. 'Tis meet A man go where he will. But from where my heart is set No message I get; My heart all wakes and grieves; Defeat Or luck, I must have my fill. Our love comes out Like the branch that turns about On the top of the hawthorne, With frost and hail at night Suffers despite 'Till the sun come, and the green leaf on the bough. I remember the young day When we set strife away, And she gave me such gesning, Her love and her ring: God grant I die not by any man's stroke 'Till I have my hand' neath her cloak. I care not for their clamour Who have come between me and my charmer, For I know how words run loose, Big talk and little use. Spoilers of pleasure, We take their measure. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A REMEMBERED FACE by EDMUND JOHN ARMSTRONG PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 7. AL-MAUMIN by EDWIN ARNOLD A NIGHT IN JUNE by ALFRED AUSTIN AT THE GRAVE OF DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI by H. T. MACKENZIE BELL THE WATER-SPRINGS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET COLORED HEROES, HARK THE BUGLE; POLITICAL by ROBERT CHARLES O'HARA BENJAMIN |