Classic Poem

I

A H , but when June's gone,
Rose, where wilt thou be?
Not beneath the snowflakes
And a leafless tree!
" Where no wild wind bloweth,
Where it never snoweth,
In a warmer shelter than the South:
Seek me,
Find me
Upon a maiden's mouth!"

Ah, but when youth's gone,
Rose, and wilt thou bide?
Never canst thou blossom
In such wintertide.
" Where no winter cometh,
Where all summer bloometh;
Where the sunlight never may depart:
Seek me,
Find me
In her beloved heart!"

II

My Lady bent her lucent eyes on me
As friend-like greeting,
And smote into my life, unwittingly,
At our first meeting,
With their most deadly sweetness;
Ay, 'tis so!
Thus hath she slain me with her fair completeness,
Nor doth she know.

My Lady gave her snow-soft hand to me,
And in her fingers
She took my very life, full sovranly.
Now my ghost lingers
Here prisoned, all unwilling,
Ay, 'tis so,
Till she shall grant it leave to quit its dwelling;
Nor doth she know.

My Lady spake sweet welcome unto me;
And with the greeting
The world slipt into silence suddenly,
At our first meeting.
Now, unto mine ears,
— Be it so —
Nought but her voice breaks silence, all the years:
Nor doth she know.

III

Shall I upbraid or praise her for
The graces she doth shed,
Who cannot help her dearness more
Than any rose its red?

Her beauty blesses from afar
Whether she will or no;
The constant shining of a star
In any pool below.

Whether her eyes remember me
And she be far or near,
She lives, — and cannot choose but be
My Dear!