5. I said to the rose, 'The brief night goes In babble and revel and wine. O young lord-lover, what sighs are those, For one that will never be thine? But mine, but mine,' so I sware to the rose, 'For ever and ever, mine.' 6. And the soul of the rose went into my blood, As the music clash'd in the hall; And long by the garden lake I stood, For I heard your rivulet fall From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood, Our wood, that is dearer than all; 7. From the meadow your walks have left so sweet That whenever a March-wind sighs He sets the jewel-print of your feet In violets blue as your eyes, To the woody hollows in which we meet And the valleys of Paradise. 8. The slender acacia would not shake One long milk-bloom on the tree; The white lake-blossom fell into the lake, As the pimpernel dozed on the lea; your sake, 9. Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls, Come hither, the dances are done, In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls, Queen lily and rose in one; Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls, To the flowers, and be their sun. 10. There has fallen a splendid tear She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate; The red rose cries, 'She is near, she is near ;' And the white rose weeps, 'She is late ;' The larkspur listens, 'I hear, I hear;' And the lily whispers, 'I wait.' 11. She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat, My dust would hear her and beat, Had I lain for a century dead; Would start and tremble under her feet, And blossom in purple and red. |