WINDLE-STRAWS.

Under

I.

gray clouds some birds will dare to sing,

No wild exultant chants, but soft and low;

Under gray clouds the young leaves seek the spring,

And lurking violets blow.

And waves make idle music on the strand,

And inland streams have lucky words to say,

And children's voices sound across the land

Although the clouds be gray.

II.

Only maidenhood and youth,

Only eyes that are most fair,

And the pureness of a mouth,

And the grace of golden hair,
Yet beside her we grow wise,

And we breathe a finer air.

Words low-utter'd, simple-sweet,

Yet, nor songs of morning birds,

Nor soft whisperings of the wheat

More than such clear-hearted words

Make us wait, and love, and listen,

Stir more mellow heart accords.

Only maiden-motions light,
Only smiles that sweetly go,
Girlish laughter pure and bright,
And a footfall like the snow,

What in these should make us wise?

What should bid the blossom blow?

Child! on thee God's angels wait,

'Tis their robes that wave and part,

Make this summer air elate,

Fresh and fragrant, and thou art

But a simple child indeed,

One dare cherish to the heart.

III.

Were life to last for ever, love,

We might go hand in hand,

And pause and pull the flowers that blow

In all the idle land,

And we might lie in sunny fields

And while the hours away

With fallings-out and fallings-in

For half a summer day.

But since we two must sever, love,
Since some dim hour we part,

I have no time to give thee much

But quickly take my heart,

"For ever thine," and "thine my love,"

O Death may come apace

What more of love could life bestow,

Dearest, than this embrace.

IV.

Now drops in the abyss a day of life :

I count my twelve hours' gain ;—

Tired senses? vain desires? a baffled strife, Vexed heart and beating brain ?

Ten pages traversed by a languid eye?
-Nay, but one moment's space

I gazed into the soul of the blue sky;
Rare day! O day of grace!

V.

She kissed me on the forehead,
She spoke not any word,

The silence flowed between us,

And I nor spoke nor stirred.

So hopeless for my sake it was,

So full of ruth, so sweet,

My whole heart rose and blessed her,

-Then died before her feet.