Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone; And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown. II. For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky, To faint in the light of the sun she loves, To faint in his light, and to die. III. The flute, violin, bassoon; To the dancers dancing in tune; And a hush with the setting moon. IV. With whom she has heart to be gay. She is weary of dance and play.” And half to the rising day; The last wheel echoes away. V. I said to the rose, “The brief night goes In babble and revel and wine. O young lord-lover, what sighs are those, For one that will never be thine? But mine, but mine," so I sware to the rose, “For ever and ever, mine." VI. And the soul of the rose went into my blood, As the music clash’d in the hall; And long by the garden lake I stood, For I heard your rivulet fall From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood, Our wood, that is dearer than all; VII. From the meadow your walks have left so sweet That whenever a March-wind sighs In violets blue as your eyes, And the valleys of Paradise. VIII. One long milk-bloom on the tree; As the pimpernel dozed on the lea; Knowing your promise to me; The lilies and roses were all awake, They sigh’d for the dawn and thee. IX. Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls, Come hither, the dances are done, Queen lily and rose in one; To the flowers, and be their sun. X. There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my life, my fate; And the white rose weeps, "She is late;" And the lily whispers, "I wait.” XI. She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, Were it earth in an earthy bed; Had I lain for a century dead; And blossom in purple and red. PART II, IV. [Mit geringen Abweichungen bereits 1837 gedruckt in “The Tribute. A Collection of ... Poems. Edited by Lord Northampton” u. d. T. “Stanzas”.] I. O THAT 'twere possible II. When I was wont to meet her Mixt with kisses sweeter sweeter III. A shadow flits before me, IV. It leads me forth at evening, V. Half the night I waste in siglas, VI. 'Tis a morning pure and sweet, She is walking in the meadow, VII. Do I hear her sing as of old, VIII. IX. |