THROUGH the land at Midsummer, Singing, Love came. Gracious was the new-comer, Like a God in face and limb, And the trailing wings of him Tipped with flame. Red gold hair, and flushed face Warm as the south; And he stood a little space, By the sunrise seas of wheat, Took wild rose and meadow-sweet, And laid them on his mouth. In his luminous deep eyes A slow smile grew, When a small bird, brown and wise, Sudden sang a yard away, A little mad fair roundelay To skies of blue; And ah! his eyes were very sad, With tears o'erfilled, And died the grave sweet smile he had, When in the wide wheat's wrinkled gold He saw a small bird, soft and cold, Its singing stilled. Many a gift he bore that hour For many a one, Rose, and rue, and passion-flower; As he went, he gathered The silken poppies, tall and red, Flaunting in the sun. Took them to him tenderly, The flowers of sleep, Kissed their lips with many a sigh, Now I have no better thing Than a Lethe cup to bring To some that weep." So he came, in morning hours, To a garden wild, Where among hushed dreaming flowers. A pale, golden-headed girl, Like a daisy or a pearl, Stood and smiled. The reddest rose in all the land, He held to her; Fell the poppies from his hand Brushed the gold bloom of her hair Smote her innocent eyes, and fair Till they closed were. When the slumber took her eyes, Skies were blue and gold, The world was fair as Paradise, And when she woke, at, well-a-day! The wintry world was bare and grey, And she was cold, Very tired and most forlorn: Now, heart, wilt break? Our life's day is gone since morn; All the years like shifting sands, Slipped from out those empty hands, For a dream's sake I | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BREAKFAST by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE SOBBING OF THE BELLS (MIDNIGHT, SEPT. 19-20, 1881) by WALT WHITMAN THE LOVER SHOWETH HOW HE IS FORSAKEN by THOMAS WYATT THE FEILIRE OF ADAMNAN by ADAMNAN WHITE FOR MOURNING by AL-FATA AL-KAFIF |