Hearken! The South Wind's voice. My lover returns, and the valleys rejoice. The bees fly upward to watch his flight, The butterflies quiver with glad delight, As he teasingly touches their jewelled wings. O! at his bidding the whitethroat swings In thrillant blue. A thrush's call Blends with a blackbird's madrigal.
I steadily gazed at my silent pen, Attempting to keep from my straying ken An Eden of woods, of bosoming hills, Of verdant hedges, of wandering rills. How can one work When a Lover amid the flowers will lurk? He tip-toes in thro' the window-door, And whisks my papers on to the floor; With flower-steeped hands he caresses my hair, And whispers alluringly,
"_Fair, most Fair, Slip your slender hand in mine, my Sweeting, Hear! the skylarks cleave the blue with greeting, Hear the blackcap on the thorn at even Trill truths that echo to the highest heaven, Leave your world of carking care, time-haunted, For a country ever spring-enchaunted._"
He leads me on to the dewy grass, Where maiden primroses troop and pass; With a gleesome kiss in his arms he swings Me up 'twixt his eagle-wide rainbow wings: Over a willowy coppice he goes Flicking the hedges of milk-white sloes, Over the blazon of heralding gorse, Deftly he steers his ethereal course Over anemone hillocks, o'er leas, Hyacinth-dimpled, o'er buttercupped leas, Over the ings where forget-me-not eyes Borrow the blue of azureal skies; Over the meadow-flats, higher and higher, Sweeping the strings of the cloud-strung lyre. The lilt of the planets is in mine ear, Crystal dropping on crystal clear: "O Wind, my Lover, My mortal eyes must you surely cover: Such beauty will make me beauty-blind, Protect mine eyes, O my Lover Wind." Then, as I lost my indrawn breath, He swirled me down to the earth beneath, Down thro' the depths of a forest of pine, On to a carpet of celandine. The goldcrests twittered, the squirrels chased, While the lofty pines, brown arms enlaced, Lisped a dryad-taught melody, sung by the sea. Known in the valleys of Arcady.
For a little space did my Lover sleep, While the gold-mailed sun with me did keep A radiant watch; but when Eventide In saffron-rose wrapped the woodland side, He started up, and he kissed my neck, Then, bidding me rise at his instant beck, We passed where the sovran oak-trees nod, Where never a human foot has trod, Where birches sway in slenderest grace, That never have seen a mortal's face; Where rivulets hasten in sweet surprise, A wonder beneath my wond'ring eyes; A lakelet trembled beneath my glance, The lily-white elfins ceased their dance; A cherry-tree flung confetti down, And framed for my head a loving crown. Soft-toned bells Called to each other across the fells. While music played on a reeded flute Stilled the air, and the birds were mute.