3
All cloudy the heavens falling and falling—
Then said I—Ah! summer again—
The swallow, the summer-bird is going,
And so will my Beauty fall like the leaves
From my pining for his absence, 20
And so will his Love fly away.
Away! away!
Like the summer-bird,
Swift as the Day.
4
But lo! again came the slanting sun-shaft, 25
Close by me pois'd on its wing,
The sweet Bird sang again,
And looking on my tearful Face
Did it not say,
'Love has arisen, 30
True Love makes its summer,
In the Heart'?
1845
C
Notebook No. 29, p. 168.
21 Feb. 1825.
My Dear Friend