Page:Verses.djvu/21

And the April eyes that loved me too ready with smile or tear,
Too ready to read my wishes in mine that she might obey
Ere I spoke; so in the springtime I went from her arms away.

I sought my love and I found her, when Summer days were long,
All the hedges bright with blossoms and musical with song,
But the eyes that saw me coming no answer to mine would speak;
The lids drooped till the lashes lay dark on her crimson cheek,
The hands I clasped for a moment would but struggle to be free,
As I tried to win her to speak of love, of herself, of me.
‘Hark! the young birds,’ she only said; ‘dost hear them sing in the wood?’
Love's rosy wings had brushed her eyes as she passed to maidenhood.
So I stayed, but soon grew weary—man's discontent, I ween—
And I longed for Autumn colours, not trees for ever green.