Four Songs

Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake!

The darkness silvers away, the morn doth break,
It leaps in the sky: unrisen lustres slake
The o'ertaken moon. Awake, O heart, awake!

She too that loveth awaketh and hopes for thee:
Her eyes already have sped the shades that flee,
Already they watch the path thy feet shall take:
Awake, O heart, to be loved, awake, awake!

And if thou tarry from her, - if this could be, -
She cometh herself, O heart, to be loved, to thee;
For thee would unashamed herself forsake:
Awake, to be loved, my heart, awake, awake!

Awake! The land is scattered with light, and see,
Uncanopied sleep is flying from field and tree;
And blossoming boughs of April in laughter shake:
Awake, O heart, to be loved, awake, awake!

Lo, all things wake and tarry and look for thee:
She looketh and saith, "O sun, now bring him to me.
Come, more adored, O adored, for his coming's sake,
And awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake!" 

See, now, this filigree : 'tis snow, 
Shaped in the void of heavenly dew ; 
On winds of space like flower to blow 
In a wilderness of blue. 

Black are those pines. The utter cold 
Hath frozen to silence the birds' green woods. 
Rime hath ensteeled the wormless mould, 
A vacant quiet broods. 

Lo, this entranced thing ! — a breath 
Of Life that bids Man's heart to crave 
Still for perfection, ere fall death 
And earth remains his grave.