| |
| THINE emulous fond flowers are dead, too, | |
| And the daft sun-assaulter, he | |
| That frighted thee so oft, is fled or dead: | |
| Save only me | |
| (Nor is it sad to thee!) | 5 |
| Save only me | |
| There is none left to mourn thee in the fields. | |
| |
| The gray grass is not dappled with the snow; | |
| Its two banks have not shut upon the river; | |
| But it is long ago— | 10 |
| It seems forever— | |
| Since first I saw thee glance, | |
| With all the dazzling other ones, | |
| In airy dalliance, | |
| Precipitate in love, | 15 |
| Tossed, tangled, whirled and whirled above, | |
| Like a limp rose-wreath in a fairy dance. | |
| |
| When that was, the soft mist | |
| Of my regret hung not on all the land, | |
| And I was glad for thee, | 20 |
| And glad for me, I wist. | |
| |
| Thou didst not know, who tottered, wandering on high, | |
| That fate had made thee for the pleasure of the wind, | |
| With those great careless wings, | |
| Nor yet did I. | 25 |
| |
| And there were other things: | |
| It seemed God let thee flutter from his gentle clasp: | |
| Then fearful he had let thee win | |
| Too far beyond him to be gathered in, | |
| Snatched thee, o’er eager, with ungentle grasp. | 30 |
| |
| Ah! I remember me | |
| How once conspiracy was rife | |
| Against my life— | |
| The languor of it and the dreaming fond; | |
| Surging, the grasses dizzied me of thought, | 35 |
| The breeze three odors brought, | |
| And a gem-flower waved in a wand! | |
| |
| Then when I was distraught | |
| And could not speak, | |
| Sidelong, full on my cheek, | 40 |
| What should that reckless zephyr fling | |
| But the wild touch of thy dye-dusty wing! | |
| |
| I found that wing broken to-day! | |
| For thou are dead, I said, | |
| And the strange birds say. | 45 |
| I found it with the withered leaves | |
| Under the eaves. | |
| |
