The dawn is lonely for the sun,
And chill and drear;
The one lone star is pale and wan
As one in fear.
But when day strides across the hills,
The warm blood rushes through
The bared soft bosom of the blue
And all the glad east thrills.
Oh, come, my king! The hounds of joy
Are waiting for thy horn
To chase the doe of heart's desire
Across the heights of morn.
Oh, come, my Sun, and let me know
The rapture of the day!
Oh, come, my love! Oh, come, my love!
Thou art so long away!
Richard Hovey [1864-1900]
AD DOMNULAM SUAM
Little lady of my heart!
Just a little longer,
Love me: we will pass and part,
Ere this love grow stronger.
I have loved thee, Child! too well,
To do aught but leave thee:
Nay! my lips should never tell
Any tale to grieve thee.
Little lady of my heart!
Just a little longer
I may love thee: we will part
Ere my love grow stronger.