MY love, my love, when falls the summer rain With soothing music on the midnight eaves, I dream a dream of mingled bliss and pain: Deep in our heart-fields do I rove again, And bind with thee the ripe and shining sheaves. O Land of Joy! the purple mountains flinging Rich bars of shade across our sunny ease, The spicy blooms, the groves with bird-notes ringing, And, sweet through all, the wind a carol singing Of fairer morns to rise o'er rosy seas. Love's harvest clime, alas! is ours no more! For other hearts is heaped the golden grain! We may not glean where glad we reapt before, Nor sing the songs, nor wear the smiles we wore, Nor hear the wind blow sweet across the plain. Yet still, my love, when fall the summer showers With soothing music on the midnight eaves, I dream a dream that all my life o'erpowers: Blithe in our heart-fields do I pluck the flowers, And bind with thee the ripe and shining sheaves. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN EVANGELIST'S WIFE by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE BANKS O' DOON by ROBERT BURNS THE EAGLE'S SONG by RICHARD MANSFIELD FOR THE BED AT KELMSCOTT by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) TO BE CARVED ON A STONE AT THOOR BALLYLEE (1) by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS ON THE ENGINE BY NIGHT by ALEXANDER ANDERSON A DEFIANCE, RETURNING TO THE PLACE OF HIS PAST AMOURS by PHILIP AYRES |