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o come from God,--thou hast in thy repose No thought of me,--no thought of pairing-time. For thou'rt the sworn opponent of the rhyme That lovers make in kissing; and anon My very love will vex thee like a crime. x. But day and night, and winter-tide and spring, Change at thy voice; and when I hear thee sing I know 'tis May; and when I see thy face I know 'tis Summer. Thou'rt the youngest Grace, And all the Muses praise thee evermore. And there are birds who name thee as they soar; And some of these,--the best and brightest ones,-- Have guess'd the pangs that pierce me to the core. xi. Thou art the month of May with all its nights And all its days transfigured in the lights Of love-lit smiles and glances multiform; And, like a lark that sings above a storm, Thy voice o'er-rides the tumult of my mind. Oh, give me back the peace I strove to find In my last prayer, and I'll believe that Hope Will dry anon the tears that make it blind. xii. There's none like thee, not one in all the world; No face so fair, no smile so sweet-impearl'd, And no such music on the hills and plains As thy young voice whereof the thrill remains For hours and hours,--belike to keep alive The sense of beauty that the flowers may thrive. Or is't thy wish that birds should fly to thee Before the days of April's quest arrive? xiii. Thou'rt noble-natured; and there's none to stand So meek as thou, or with so dear a hand To ward off wrong. For Psyche of the Greeks Is dead and gone; and Eros with his freaks Has bow'd to thee, and turn'd aside, for shame, His useless shaft, not daring to proclaim His amorous laws, and thou so maiden-coy Beneath the halo of thy spotless name! xiv. But dreams are idle, and I must forget All that they tend to. I must cease to fret, Moth as I am, for stars beyond the reach Of mine up-soaring; and in milder speech I must invoke thy blessing on the road That lies before me,--far from thine abode, And far from all persuasion that again Thou wilt accept the terms of my love-code. xv. O Sweet! forgive me that from day to day I dream such dreams, and teach me how to sway My fluttering self, that, in forsaken hours, I may be valiant, and eschew the powers Of death and doubt! I need the certitude Of thine esteem that I may check the feud Of mine own thoughts that rend and anger me Because denied the boon for which I sued. xvi. Teach me to wait wi
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