Poem by Thomas MacDonagh

Quando Ver Venit Meum?

--Poet, babbling delicate song
Vainly for the ears of love,
Vail not hope if thou wait long;
Charming thy hope to song
Thou wilt win love.

Thou dost yearn for lovelier flow'r
Than all blooms that all men cull:
Thou wilt find in its one hour,
In its one dell, the flow'r
That thou wilt cull.

Thou wilt know it in its own dell,
And pause there; and thy heart then
Leaving hope will sing love well,
Fill with heart's joy the dell
Of thy love then.

--Where is thy dell, when is thy time.
Lovely winsome tenderling?
Ah! if death fall ere that prime--
Now, bring me now in time
My tenderling!

1. Averil
2. Of the Man of My First Play
3. The Seasons and the Leaves
4. The Stars Stand up in the Air
5. To a Wise Man

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