Poem by Alice Meynell

Spring on the Alban Hills

O'er the Campagna it is dim, warm weather;
    The Spring comes with a full heart silently,
    And many thoughts; a faint flash of the sea
Divides two mists; straight falls the falling feather.

With wild Spring meanings hill and plain together
    Grow pale, or just flush with a dust of flowers.
    Rome in the ages, dimmed with all her towers,
Floats in the midst, a little cloud at tether.

I fain would put my hands about thy face,
    Thou with thy thoughts, who art another Spring,
        And draw thee to me like a mournful child.

Thou lookest on me from another place;
    I touch not this day's secret, nor the thing
        That in the silence makes thy soft eyes wild.

1. Free Will
2. To Silence
3. The Two Questions
4. Unlinked
5. To Sylvia

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