Under the locust blossoms That hung and smelt like grapes: Under the honey-locust blossoms,''" Faintly their breath escapes And smites my heart; though years have passed since I Beheld those clusters swinging silently, Silver racemes against that sunset sky: A sky all over rosy. I waited for the night Till the crickets tinkled drowsy In their beds of clover white Or fell silent at my footfall, one by one. Did I wait? Did I wander there alone, Under shadow, in that garden not my own? 'Tis but a shade of odour, A recollected breath, And I stand, a dark intruder The swaying flowers beneath, Alone, and peering on through anxious gloom For a motion, for a glimmer; did it come? Oh that moment! Oh that breath of locust bloom! |