What dream-peacock, this moon. With voice of silence, Bejeweled with the golden stars, With its spread fan, the tree What dance, this? What rain-cloud hath it seen In the sky of night's intangibility? I wooed her by the sapphire sea, And heard the mating bluebird pipe A prescience full of joy to me. And when the wedding bells rang free, And all our thoughts flowed on like rhyme, The blush was on the strawberry — The strawberry was in its prime. Two years have swiftly flown since then — Two happy years — once more the birds And strawberries are in the glen, That heard of love our whispered words. The honeysuckle freights the breeze, The garden blows rose-red with June, And on his plate of strawberries The baby's drumming with his spoon. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO MY NINETH DECADE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE CORAL INSECT by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY ON IMAGINATION by PHILLIS WHEATLEY NEGRO GIRL by IRENE COOPER ALLEN WOULD I KNEW! by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM IN THE STILLNESS O' THE NIGHT by WILLIAM BARNES THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 68. THE THREE AGES OF WOMAN: 3 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |