THERE'S mating madness in the air, Passionate, grave! The blossoms burst, The burns run quick to lips a-thirst; And solemn gaze young maids, heart-free. The white clouds race, the sun rays flare And turn to gold the pallid mist; With greedy mouth the Spring has kissed The wind that links the sky with sea. The blue and lonely mountains stare, As if to draw the blue above. The hour is come! O Flower of Love! I can no longer keep from thee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOW ARE YOU, SANITARY?' by FRANCIS BRET HARTE MONTEREY [SEPTEMBER 23, 1846] by CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN THE BELLS OF LYNN; HEARD AT NAHANT by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW WRITTEN, AT THE REQUEST OF A GENTLEMAN, UNDER A .. PICTURE by RICHARD BARNFIELD PSALM 60 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: ON MY TWENTY-FOURTH YEAR by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |