Mathilde Blind (Матильда Блайнд)

* * *

You make the sunshine of my heart
    And its tempestuous shower;
Sometimes the thought of you is like
    A lilac bush in flower,
Yea, honey-sweet as hives in May.
And then the pang of it will strike
My bosom with a fiery smart,
As though love's deeply planted dart
    Drained all its life away.

My thoughts hum round you, Dear, like bees
    About a bank of thyme,
Or round the yellow blossoms of
    The heavy-scented lime.
Ah, sweeter you than honeydew,
    Yet dark the ways of love,
For it has robbed my soul of peace,
And marred my life and turned heart's-ease
    Into funereal rue.

1. Song (Thou walkest with me as the spirit-light)
2. Apple-Blossom
3. Song (I am athirst, but not for wine)
4. In Spring
5. A Highland Village

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1328

Последние стихотворения

To English version