Till the great need
So lovely and so instant grew, it seemed
The embodied Spirit of the Spring
Hung at me, heart on heart.
XXIX
A world of leafage murmurous and a-twinkle;
The green, delicious plenitude of June;
Love and laughter and song
The blue day long
Going to the same glad, golden tune—
The same glad tune!
Clouds on the dim, delighting skies a-sprinkle;
Poplars black in the wake of a setting moon;
Love and languor and sleep
And the star-sown deep
Going to the same good, golden tune—
The same good tune!
XXX
I send you roses—red, like love,
And white, like death, sweet friend:
Born in your bosom to rejoice,
Languish, and droop, and end.
If the white roses tell of death,
Let the red roses mend
The talk with true stories of love
Unchanging till the end.
Red and white roses, love and death—
What else is left to send?
For what is life but love, the means,
And death, true Wife, the end?
XXXI
These glad, these great, these goodly days
Bewildering hope, outrunning praise,
The Earth, renewed by the great Sun’s longing,
Utters her joy in a million ways!