Classic Poem

My own and my only Love some night
Shall keep her tryst, shall come from the South,
And oh, her robe of magnolia white!
And oh, and oh, the breath of her mouth!

And oh, her grace in the grasses sweet!
And oh, her love in the leaves new born!
And oh, and oh, her lily-white feet
Set daintily down in the dew-wet morn!

The drowsy cattle at night shall kneel
And give God thanks, and shall dream and rest;
The stars slip down and a golden seal
Be set on the meadows my Love has blest.

Come back, my Love, come sudden, come soon.
The world lies waiting as the cold dead lie;
The frightened winds wail and the crisp-curled moon
Rides, wrapped in clouds, up the cold gray sky.

Oh, Summer, my Love, my first, last Love!
I sit all day by Potomac here,
Waiting and waiting the voice of the dove;
Waiting my darling, my own, my dear.