as red roses drink of the sun, My dreams they drink of you.

This is the moon of roses! The cherishing South-West blows, And life, dear heart, for me and you, O, life’s a rejoicing rose.

p. 41XXVI

p. 41

June, and a warm, sweet rain; June, and the call of a bird: To a lover in pain What lovelier word?

Two of each other fain Happily heart on heart: So in the wind and rain Spring bears his part!

O, to be heart on heart One with the warm June rain, God with us from the start, And no more pain!

p. 42XXVII

p. 42

It was a bowl of roses:  There in the light they lay, Languishing, glorying, glowing Their life away.

And the soul of them rose like a presence, Into me crept and grew, And filled me with something—some one—  O, was it you?

p. 43XXVIII

p. 43

Your feet as glad And light as a dove’s homing wings, you came— Came with your sweets to fill my hands, My sense with your perfume.

We closed with lips Grown weary and fain with longing from afar, The while your grave, enamoured eyes Drank down the dream in mine.

Till the great need So lovely and so instant grew, it seemed The embodied Spirit of the Spring Hung at me, heart on heart.

p. 44XXIX

p. 44

A world of leafage murmurous and a-twinkle; The green, delicious plenitude of June; Love and laughter and song The blue day long Going to the same glad, golden tune— The same glad tune!

Clouds on the dim, delighting skies a-sprinkle; Poplars black in the wake of a setting moon; Love and languor and sleep And the star-sown deep Going to the same good, golden tune— 

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