PREV / NEXT

Desiderium

There was such sweetness in the wood,

I thought you must be there,

Such wreathing and such breathing

Of blossom everywhere;

But no! it was not you, my love,

It was the rose instead,

The rose that blows and casts its snows

Above your sleeping head.

There was such laughter in the wood,

All made of you it seemed,

The singing and the ringing,

The dew that gleamed and dreamed;

Your soul sang on in every bird,

In every flower your eyes,

So blue, so true, and all so you,

Gazed out of Paradise.

Yea! all the wonder of the wood

Was you and you again,

All the flowering, and the showering

Of the bright April rain;

Yea! nought was there, however fair,

But had been you before—

Ah! for the power to turn the flower

Into the girl once more.