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Poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter


The Lover


I go through wet spring woods alone,
Through sweet green woods with heart of stone,
My weary foot upon the grass
Falls heavy as I pass.
The cuckoo from the distance cries,
The lark a pilgrim in the skies;
But all the pleasant spring is drear.
I want you, dear!

I pass the summer meadows by,
The autumn poppies bloom and die;
I speak alone so bitterly
For no voice answers me.
O lovers parting by the gate,
O robin singing to your mate,
Plead you well, for she will hear
I love you, dear!

I crouch alone, unsatisfied,
Mourning by winters fireside.
O Fate, what evil wind you blow.
Must this be so?
No southern breezes come to bless,
So conscious of their emptiness
My lonely arms I spread in woe,
I want you so.



Dora Sigerson Shorter


Dora Sigerson Shorter's other poems:
  1. The Fairy Changeling
  2. An Imperfect Revolution
  3. I Am the World
  4. The Kine of My Father
  5. I Prayed So Eagerly


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Mary Montagu The Lover ("At length, by so much importunity press'd")
  • Walter Landor The Lover ("Now thou art gone, tho' not gone far")

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