YOU sang the song of rare delight " 'Tis morning and the days are long" -- A morning fresh and fair and bright As ever dawned in happy song; A radiant air, and here and there Were singing birds on sprays of bloom, And dewy splendors everywhere, And heavenly breaths of rose perfume -- All rapturous things were in the song " 'Tis morning and the days are long." O singer of the song divine, Though now you turn your face away With never word for me or mine Nor smile forever and a day, We guess your meaning, and rejoice In what has come to you -- the meed Beyond the search of mortal voice And only in the song indeed -- With you forever, as the song, " 'Tis morning and the days are long." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS by ROBERT BURNS LAMENT FOR CULLODEN by ROBERT BURNS HER MERRIMENT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE FOURTH OF JULY by JOHN PIERPONT LOVE DISSEMBLED, FR. AS YOU LIKE IT by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE GARDEN DAYS: 7. THE GARDENER by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON |