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| O PENSIVE, tender maid, downcast and shy, | |
| Who turnest pale e’en at the name of love, | |
| And with flush’d face must pass the elm-tree by | |
| Asham’d to hear the passionate gray dove | |
| Moan to his mate, thee too the god shall move, | 5 |
| Thee too the maidens shall ungird one day, | |
| And with thy girdle put thy shame away. | |
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| What then, and shall white winter ne’er be done | |
| Because the glittering frosty morn is fair? | |
| Because against the early-setting sun | 10 |
| Bright show the gilded boughs though waste and bare? | |
| Because the robin singeth free from care? | |
| Ah! these are memories of a better day | |
| When on earth’s face the lips of summer lay. | |
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| Come then, beloved one, for such as thee | 15 |
| Love loveth, and their hearts he knoweth well, | |
| Who hoard their moments of felicity, | |
| As misers hoard the medals that they tell, | |
| Lest on the earth but paupers they should dwell: | |
| “We hide our love to bless another day; | 20 |
| The world is hard, youth passes quick,” they say. | |
| |
| Ah, little ones, but if ye could forget | |
| Amidst your outpour’d love that you must die, | |
| Then ye, my servants, were death’s conquerors yet, | |
| And love to you should be eternity | 25 |
| How quick soever might the days go by: | |
| Yes, ye are made immortal on the day | |
| Ye cease the dusty grains of time to weigh. | |
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| Thou hearkenest, love? O, make no semblance then | |
| Thou art beloved, but as thy wont is | 30 |
| Turn thy gray eyes away from eyes of men, | |
| With hands down-dropp’d, that tremble with thy bliss, | |
| With hidden eyes, take thy first lover’s kiss; | |
| Call this eternity which is to-day, | |
| Nor dream that this our love can pass away. | 35 |
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