Married Lovers.
Come away, the clouds are high,1
Put the flashing needles by.2
Many days are not to spare,3
Or to waste, my fairest fair !4
All is ready. Come to-day,5
For the nightingale her lay,6
When she findeth that the whole7
Of her love, and all her soul,8
Cannot forth of her sweet throat,9
Sobs the while she draws her breath,10
And the bravery of her note11
In a few days altereth.12
A man and woman sit next to each other beneath several trees. The man’s face is in
the shadows. There is
a white umbrella beside the woman; she holds the umbrella shaft in her lap. 3/4-page
illustration contained within a single-ruled
border.
Come, ere she despond, and see13
In a silent ecstasy14
Chestnuts heave for hours and hours15
All the glory of their flowers16
To the melting blue above,17
That broods over them like love.18
Leave the garden walls, where blow19
Apple-blossoms pink, and low20
Ordered beds of tulips fine21
Seek the blossoms made divine22
With a scent that is their soul.23
These are soulless. Bring the white24
Of thy gown to bathe in light25
Walls for narrow hearts. The whole26
Earth is found, and air and sea,27
Not too wide for thee and me.28
Not too wide, and yet thy face29
Gives the meaning of all space ;30
And thine eyes, with starbeams fraught,31
Hold the measure of all thought ;32
For of them my soul besought,33
And was shown a glimpse of thine—34
A veilèd vestal, with divine35
Solace, in sweet love’s despair,36
For that life is brief as fair.37
Who hath most, he yearneth most,38
Sure, as seldom heretofore,39
Somewhere of the gracious more.40
Deepest joy the least shall boast,41
Asking with new-opened eyes42
The remainder ; that which lies43
O, so fair ! but not all conned—44
O, so near ! and yet beyond.45
Come, and in the woodland sit,46
Seem a wonted part of it.47
Then, while moves the delicate air,48
And the glories of thy hair49
Little flickering sunrays strike,50
Let me see what thou art like ;51
For great love enthralls me so,52
That, in sooth, I scarcely know.53
Show me, in a house all green,54
Save for long gold wedges’ sheen,55
Where the flies, white sparks of fire,56
Dart and hover and aspire,57
And the leaves, air-stirred on high,58
Feel such joy they needs must sigh,59
And the untracked grass makes sweet60
flowers to touch thy feet,61
And the bees about them hum.62
All the world is waiting. Come !63