These were my honey-bees, and soon would swarm
To choose their queen. But ere they did appear,
I heard again that murmur in mine ear
Which seem'd to speak of calm before a storm.
XIX.
"What is it, love?" I whispered in my sleep,
And turned to thee, as April unto May.
"Art mine in truth, mine own, by night and day,
Now and for ever?" And I heard thee weep,
And then persuade; and then my soul did leap