II. AN INTERLUDE
I was within her heart that one short year
(But that is long ago and far away!).
Her soul's sweet spring,
The while she waited for that greater thing,
Should blow to blossom all the buds of May.
(But that is long ago and far away!).
Her soul's sweet spring,
The while she waited for that greater thing,
Should blow to blossom all the buds of May.
I was within her heart that one short year
(But that is hidden, lost, and gone away!).
She was not mine,
But ere the glorious harvest moon could shine
There beamed on me the crescent moon of May.
(But that is hidden, lost, and gone away!).
She was not mine,
But ere the glorious harvest moon could shine
There beamed on me the crescent moon of May.
I was within her heart that one short year
(But that has faded faint and soft away!).
Though the year's night
Draws on, and all about the snow falls white,
Across my heart there blows a breath of May.
(But that has faded faint and soft away!).
Though the year's night
Draws on, and all about the snow falls white,
Across my heart there blows a breath of May.
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