IN April's dim and showery nights, When wandering perfumes, faint and rare, Float on the breeze; and phosphor lights Glimmer and fade along the air; When the green turf is white with flowers, Where orchards shed their floral wreath, And like the fairy-gifted child, Drop precious pearls at every breath; When all night long the boughs are stirr'd With fitful warblings from the nest, And the heart flutters like a bird, With its sweet, passionate unrest; Oh! then, beloved, I think on thee! And on that life, so strangely fair, Ere yet one cloud of memory Had gather'd in hope's golden air. I think on thee, and thy lone grave, On the green hill-side far away; I see the wilding flowers that wave Around thee, as the night-winds sway Though Hope can ne'er on earth fulfil The glory of her morning dream, The mystic soul of Nature still Resumes her sweet, unfailing theme. As Proserpine returned once more On Enna's flowery fields to rove, Still doth the breathing spring restore The sorrowing heart to light and love. And still though only clouds remain On life's horizon, cold and drear; The dream of youth returns again, With the sweet promise of the year. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY LADY'S TEARS by JOHN DOWLAND HYSTERIA by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT THE STORM by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN FLAME LILIES by CHRISTINE F. BRONSON WATER I'LL HAVE by DOROTHY BURGESS |