Sing of love, and what sing I? That the burnished marshes lie Yonder 'neath a poppied sky; That the eldritch wind makes free With the wayward soul of me; That you gnarled and crookback tree Points the way to visions new Past the luring sea's keen blue,— That the sunset thrills me through! Sing of love, and what sing I? To the dusk's soft symphony I would be in brother tone. Love can leave no man alone! Forth fare I, companioned now By each swayed, harmonic bough, By each prescient star aflame. Yet, with twilight, how she came Whispering in each breeze, and bowed From each battlement of cloud. "You would shut me out, content With a barren firmament? See, I call you softly!" Lo, Thus I heard her—and I go. Sing of love, and so sing I! What worth earth or sea or sky If her little mortal word So could still them, and be heard? |