Then my heart within me sings Lyrics of the world’s dead springs; Something mystic, magical, Hovers, glamours over all; Even the osiers, red and yellow, Prophesy each to its fellow; Every voice and note I hear Whispers of the pulsing year.
Cackling fowls in southward barns, Wild notes over sheeted tarns, Melted roadways, soiled snow, Premature calling of a crow, Fill my soul with reveries As wells the upward sap in trees, When my steps to southward turn And the sloping sun doth burn.
Then at night, ere men have slept, Across the stars a mist hath crept; Then a film drapes the skies, And the night hath softer eyes; Something in the heaven aglow, Something in the earth below, Toward glad dreaming turns my brain, And my heart grows young again.
LOVE.
Love came at dawn when all the world was fair, When crimson glories, bloom, and song were rife; Love came at dawn when hope’s wings fanned the air, And murmured, “I am life.”
Love came at even when the day was done, When heart and brain were tired, and slumber pressed; Love came at eve, shut out the sinking sun, And whispered, “I am rest.”