Letter from Town: The Almond-Tree
You promised to send me some violets. Did you forget?
White ones and blue ones from under the orchard hedge?
Sweet dark purple, and white ones mixed for a pledge
Of our early love that hardly has opened yet.
Here there's an almond-tree — you have never seen
Such a one in the north — it flowers on the street, and I stan
Every day by the fence to look up at the flowers that expan
At rest in the blue, and wonder at what they mean.
Under the almond-tree, the happy lands
Provence, Japan, and Italy repose;
And passing feet are chatter and clapping of those
Who play around us, country girls clapping their hands.
You, my love, the foremost, in a flowered gown,
All your unbearable tenderness, you with the laughter
Standed upon your eyes now so wide with hereafter,
You with loose hands of abandonment hanging down.
White ones and blue ones from under the orchard hedge?
Sweet dark purple, and white ones mixed for a pledge
Of our early love that hardly has opened yet.
Here there's an almond-tree — you have never seen
Such a one in the north — it flowers on the street, and I stan
Every day by the fence to look up at the flowers that expan
At rest in the blue, and wonder at what they mean.
Under the almond-tree, the happy lands
Provence, Japan, and Italy repose;
And passing feet are chatter and clapping of those
Who play around us, country girls clapping their hands.
You, my love, the foremost, in a flowered gown,
All your unbearable tenderness, you with the laughter
Standed upon your eyes now so wide with hereafter,
You with loose hands of abandonment hanging down.
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