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A MADRIGAL.
A MADRIGAL.
OVE is a day, Sweetheart, shining and bright: It hath its rose-dawn ere the morning light;
Its glow and glory of the sudden sun;
Its noon-tide heat as the swift hours wear on;
Its fall of dew, and silver-lighted night,—
Love is a day, Sweetheart, shining and bright.
Love is a year, Beloved, bitter and brief:
It hath its spring of bud, and bloom and leaf;
Its summer burning from the fervid South
Till all the fields lie parched and faint with drouth;
Its autumn, when the leaves sweep down the gale,
When skies are grey, and heart and spirit fail;
Its winter white with snowy, more white with grief,—
Love is a year, Beloved, bitter and brief.
It hath its spring of bud, and bloom and leaf;
Its summer burning from the fervid South
Till all the fields lie parched and faint with drouth;
Its autumn, when the leaves sweep down the gale,
When skies are grey, and heart and spirit fail;
Its winter white with snowy, more white with grief,—
Love is a year, Beloved, bitter and brief.
