AT LAST.
75
AT LAST.
OWN, down like a pale leaf dropping Under an autumn sky,
My love dropped into my bosom
Quietly, quietly.
There was not a ray of sunshine
And not a sound in the air,
As she trembled into my bosom—
My love, no longer fair.
And not a sound in the air,
As she trembled into my bosom—
My love, no longer fair.
All year round in her beauty
She dwelt on the tree-top high:
She danced in the summer breezes,
She laughed to the summer sky.
She dwelt on the tree-top high:
She danced in the summer breezes,
She laughed to the summer sky.
I lay so low in the grass-dews,
She sat so high above,
She never wist of my longing,
She never dreamed of my love.
She sat so high above,
She never wist of my longing,
She never dreamed of my love.
But when winds laid bare her dwelling,
And her heart could find no rest,
I called—and she fluttered downward
Into my faithful breast.
And her heart could find no rest,
I called—and she fluttered downward
Into my faithful breast.
