I LOOKED across the lawn one summer's day, Deep shadowed, dreaming in the drowsy light, And thought, what if this afternoon, so bright And still, should end it? -- as it may. Blue dome, and flocks of fleece that slowly pass Before the pale old moon, the while she keeps Her sleepy watch, and ancient pear that sweeps Its low, fruit-laden skirts along the grass. What if I had to say to all of these, "So this is the last time" -- suddenly there My love came loitering under the great trees; And now the thought I could no longer bear: Startled I flung it from me, as one flings All sharply from the hand a bee that stings. |