Cordula's Web. Weeping Willow in the wind.
Weeping Willow in the wind. Copyright © 2003 Cordula's Web. Gallery 18


Alice Meynell

I must not think of thee; and, tired yet strong,
I shun the love that lurks in all delight,
The love of thee, and in the blue heaven's height,
And in the dearest passage of a song.

Oh, just beyond the sweetest thoughts that throng
This breast, the thought of thee waits hidden yet bright;
But it must never, never come in sight;
I must stop short of thee the whole day long.

But when sleep comes to close each difficult day,
When night gives pause to the long watch I keep,
And all my bonds I needs must loose apart,
Must doff my will as raiment laid away,

With the first dream that comes with the first sleep
I run, I run, I am gather'd to thy heart.

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