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!
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