WINTER RAIN. VERY valley drinks, EVE Every dell and hollow: Where the kind rain sinks and sinks, Green of Spring will follow. Yet a lapse of weeks Buds will burst their edges, Strip their wool-coats, glue-coats, streaks, In the woods and hedges; Weave a bower of love For birds to meet each other, Weave a canopy above Nest and egg and mother. But for fattening rain We should have no flowers, Never a mated bird In the rocking tree-tops, Never indeed a flock or herd To graze upon the lea-crops. Lambs so woolly white, Sheep the sun-bright leas on, They could have no grass to bite But for rain in season. We should find no moss But miles of barren sand, With never a son or daughter, Or lily on the water. W A DIRGE. HY were you born when the snow was falling? Or when grapes are green in the cluster, Or, at least, when lithe swallows muster From summer dying. Why did you die when the lambs were cropping? And all winds go sighing For sweet things dying. CONFLUENTS. S rivers seek the sea, As Much more deep than they, So my soul seeks thee Far away: As running rivers moan So I moan Left alone. As the delicate rose To the sun's sweet strength Doth herself unclose, Breadth and length: So spreads my heart to thee I to thee As morning dew exhales Sunwards pure and free, So my spirit fails After thee: As dew leaves not a trace I, no trace On thy face. Its goal the river knows, Shall I, lone sorrow past, Sorrow past, Thee at last? NOBLE SISTERS. "NOW WOW did you mark a falcon, Flying toward my window In the morning cool and clear? With jingling bells about her neck, But what beneath her wing? It may have been a ribbon, Or it may have been a ring." "I marked a falcon swooping And for your love, my sister dove, "Or did you spy a ruddy hound, Sister fair and tall, Went snuffing round my garden bound, Or crouched by my bower wall? With a silken leash about his neck; A chain of gold and silver links, Or a letter writ to me."- "I heard a hound, high-born sister, I rose and drove him from your wall “Or did you meet a pretty page Sat swinging on the gate; Sat whistling, whistling like a bird, may be slept too late : Or With eaglets broidered on his cap, If you had turned his pockets out, Scarce the east was red: Lest the creaking gate should anger you, "O patience, sister. Did you see Come home across the desolate sea To woo me for his wife? And in his heart my heart is locked, And in his life my life." |