Come, come, my Love, the morning waits, What magic now shall greet our sight! What butterflies Before our eyes Shall vanish in the open light! Come, while the Sun has power to strike Our household fires all dead and cold! How softly now The wind can blow -- When carrying off a field of gold! Come, when behind some leafy hedge We'll see a snow-white, new-born lamb No man has set His eyes on yet -- Where it lies sleeping near its dam. Come, come, my Love, the morning waits, The Sun is high, the dew has gone! The air's as bright As though the light Of twelve May mornings came in one. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HURRICANE by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT FATHER WILLIAM [QUESTIONED], FR. ALICE IN WONDERLAND by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON AT CASTLE BOTEREL by THOMAS HARDY THE IMPROVISATORE: LEOPOLD by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |