by your gate.?His song is softer than the dew?And he is come to visit you.
O bend no more in revery?When he at eventide is calling.?Nor muse: Who may this singer be?Whose song about my heart is falling??Know you by this, the lover's chant,?'Tis I that am your visitant.
V
Lean out of the window,?Goldenhair,?I hear you singing?A merry air.
My book was closed,?I read no more,?Watching the fire dance?On the floor.
I have left my book,?I have left my room,?For I heard you singing?Through the gloom.
Singing and singing?A merry air,?Lean out of the window,?Goldenhair.
VI
I would in that sweet bosom be?(O sweet it is and fair it is!)?Where no rude wind might visit me.?Because of sad austerities?I would in that sweet bosom be.
I would be ever in that heart?(O soft I knock and soft entreat her!)?Where only peace might be my part.?Austerities were all the sweeter?So I were ever in that heart.
VII
My love is in a light attire?Among the apple-trees,?Where the gay winds do most desire?To run in companies.
There, where the gay winds stay to woo?The young leaves as they pass,?My love goes slowly, bending to?Her shadow on the grass;
And where the sky's a pale blue cup?Over the laughing land,?My love goes lightly, holding up?Her dress with dainty hand.
VIII
Who goes amid the green wood?With springtide all adorning her??Who goes amid the merry green wood?To make it merrier?
Who passes in the sunlight?By ways that know the light footfall??Who passes in the sweet sunlight?With mien so virginal?
The ways of all the woodland?Gleam with a soft and golden fire -- -?For whom does all the sunny woodland?Carry so brave attire?
O, it is for my true love?The woods their rich apparel wear -- -?O, it is for my own true love,?That is so young and fair.
IX
Winds of May, that dance on the sea,?Dancing a ring-around in glee?From furrow to furrow, while overhead?The foam flies up to be garlanded,?In silvery arches spanning the air,?Saw you my true love anywhere??Welladay! Welladay!?For the winds of May!?Love is unhappy when love is away!
X
Bright cap and streamers,?He sings in the hollow:?Come follow, come follow,
All you that love.?Leave dreams to the dreamers?That will not after,?That song and laughter
Do nothing move.
With ribbons streaming?He sings the bolder;?In troop at his shoulder
The wild bees hum.?And the time of dreaming?Dreams is over -- -?As lover to lover,
Sweetheart, I come.
XI
Bid adieu, adieu, adieu,?Bid adieu to girlish days,?Happy Love is come to woo?Thee and woo thy girlish ways -- -?The zone that doth become thee fair,?The snood upon thy yellow hair,
When thou hast heard his name upon?The bugles of the cherubim?Begin thou softly to unzone?Thy girlish bosom unto him?And softly to undo the snood?That is the sign of maidenhood.
XII
What counsel has the hooded moon?Put in thy heart, my shyly sweet,?Of Love in ancient plenilune,?Glory and stars beneath his feet -- -?A sage that is but kith and kin?With the comedian Capuchin?
Believe me rather that am wise?In disregard of the divine,?A glory kindles in those eyes?Trembles to starlight. Mine, O Mine!?No more be tears in moon or mist?For thee, sweet sentimentalist.
XIII
Go seek her out all courteously,?And say I come,?Wind of spices whose song is ever?Epithalamium.?O, hurry over the dark lands?And run upon the sea?For seas and lands shall not divide us?My love and me.
Now, wind, of your good courtesy?I pray you go,?And come into her little garden?And sing at her window;?Singing: The bridal wind is blowing?For Love is at his noon;?And soon will your true love be with you,?Soon, O soon.
XIV
My dove, my beautiful one,?Arise, arise!?The night-dew lies?Upon my lips and eyes.
The odorous winds are weaving?A music of sighs:?Arise, arise,?My dove, my beautiful one!
I wait by the cedar tree,?My sister, my love,?White breast of the dove,?My breast shall be your bed.
The pale dew lies?Like a veil on my head.?My fair one, my fair dove,?Arise, arise!
XV
From dewy dreams, my soul, arise,?From love's deep slumber and from death,?For lo! the treees are full of sighs?Whose leaves the morn admonisheth.
Eastward the gradual dawn prevails?Where softly-burning fires appear,?Making to tremble all those veils?Of grey and golden gossamer.
While sweetly, gently, secretly,?The flowery bells of morn are stirred?And the wise choirs of faery?Begin (innumerous!) to be heard.
XVI
O cool is the valley now?And there, love, will we go?For many a choir is singing now?Where Love did sometime go.?And hear you not the thrushes calling,?Calling us away??O cool and pleasant is the valley?And there, love, will we stay.
XVII
Because your voice was at my side?I gave him pain,?Because within my hand I held?Your hand again.
There is no word nor any sign?Can make amend -- -?He is a stranger to me now?Who was my friend.
XVIII
O Sweetheart, hear you?Your lover's tale;?A man shall have sorrow?When friends him fail.
For he shall know then?Friends be untrue?And a little ashes?Their words come to.
But one unto him?Will softly move?And softly woo him?In ways of love.
His hand is under?Her smooth round breast;?So he who has sorrow?Shall have rest.
XIX
Be
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