Poems (Kimball)/Expectancy
For works with similar titles, see Expectancy.
IV.
expectancy.
Summer, rain me a rain of rose-leaves; Only on rose-leaves she shall tread! Summer, rain me a rain of rose-leaves Over the banquet Love hath spread.
Never Orient feast so splendid, Viands so costly, wines so rare; Never showers of bloom descended Veiling a princess half so fair!
Summer, make her a couch of roses, Pillows of rose-leaves lightly prest; Odors sweet when my Love reposes Dreamily drifting round her rest!
Come, Belovèd, the feast awaits thee: Cruelly traitor moments flee!Is it sorrow or joy belates thee? Heedest thou aught unshared by me!
Coming! O rapture more than mortal! Softly the gates o bliss unclose; Silence, guarding the sacred portal, Wears in her breast the symbol rose!