The owls are calling and the maize
With fallen dew is dripping—
Ah, girlhood, through the dewy haze
Come like a moonbeam slipping.
3.
He hums.
There is a fading inward of the day,
And all the pansy sunset hugs one star;
To eastward dwindling all the land is gray,
While barley meadows westward smoulder far.
Now to your glass will you pass
For the last time?
Pass,
Humming that ballad we know?—
Here while I wait it is late
And is past time—
Late,
And love's hours they go, they go.
There is a drawing downward of the night;
The wedded Heaven wends married to the Moon;
Above, the heights hang golden in her light,
Below, the woods bathe dewy in the June.
There through the dew is it you
Coming lawny?
You,
Or a moth in the vines?
You!—at your throat I may note
Twinkling tawny,
Note,
A glow-worm, your brooch that shines.
4.
She speaks.
How many smiles in the asking?—
Herein I can not deceive you;
My "yes" in a "no" was a-masking,
Nor thought, dear, once to grieve you.
I hid. The humming-bird happiness here
Danced up i' the blood ... but what are words
When the speech of two souls all truth affords?
Affirmative, negative what in love's ear?—
I wished to say "yes" and somehow said "no";
The woman within me knew you would know,
For it held you six times dear.