Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume II. Love. 1904. | | | | VI. Lovers | | Seven times Three | | Jean Ingelow (1820–1897) |
| | Love
I LEANED out of window, I smelt the white clover, | |
| Dark, dark was the garden, I saw not the gate; | |
| “Now, if there be footsteps, he comes, my one lover— | |
| Hush, nightingale, hush! O sweet nightingale, wait | |
| Till I listen and hear | 5 |
| If a step draweth near, | |
| For my love he is late! | |
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| “The skies in the darkness stoop nearer and nearer, | |
| A cluster of stars hangs like fruit in the tree, | |
| The fall of the water comes sweeter, comes clearer: | 10 |
| To what art thou listening, and what dost thou see? | |
| Let the star-clusters glow, | |
| Let the sweet waters flow, | |
| And cross quickly to me. | |
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| “You night-moths that hover where honey brims over | 15 |
| From sycamore blossoms, or settle or sleep; | |
| You glow-worms, shine out, and the pathway discover | |
| To him that comes darkling along the rough steep. | |
| Ah, my sailor, make haste, | |
| For the time runs to waste, | 20 |
| And my love lieth deep,— | |
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| “Too deep for swift telling; and yet, my one lover, | |
| I ’ve conned thee an answer, it waits thee to-night.” | |
| By the sycamore passed he, and through the white clover; | |
| Then all the sweet speech I had fashioned took flight; | 25 |
| But I ’ll love him more, more | |
| Than e’er wife loved before, | |
| Be the days dark or bright. | | | | |
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