The Lover’s Song.

From: The Dial, Vol. III, No. I (July 1842)
Author:
Published: E. P. Peabody 1842 Boston

THE LOVER’S SONG.

BEE in the deep flower-bells,
Brook in the cavern dim,
Fawn in the woodland dells
Hideth him.

I hide in thy deep flower-eyes,
In the well of thy dark cold eye,
In thy heart my feelings rise,
There they lie.

Sing, love,—sing, for thy song
Filleth the life of my mind,
Thou bendest my woes along
Like a wind.

Green of the spring, and flower,
Fruit of the summer day,
Midnight and moonlit hour,
What say they?

Centre of them thou art,
Building that points on high,
Sun—for it is in thy heart,
Will not die.


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