| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | XII. Love and Death
Illusion | | By Andrew Macphail (1864–1938) |
| | | BELOVED, Spring is come! Do you not hear | |
| The strong South wind’s deep breathing in the trees? | |
| —With all the lusty joy of youth he frees | |
| Their limbs from bondage of the winter drear,— | |
| Nor yet the bird notes rising high and clear | 5 |
| Above the merry whistling of the breeze? | |
| Will you not answer, if I join with these | |
| My cry of longing and of love most dear? | |
| Should I but nestle close beside the mound | |
| This night, with ear alert, the grave might yield | 10 |
| Unto the Spring and Love some whispered sound, | |
| That all this weary time you only dreamed. | |
| When snows of winter levelled all the field, | |
| O God, how very far away you seemed. | | | | |
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