Poems and Baudelaire Flowers/A Roundel in March
A ROUNDEL IN MARCH
When March has fled with windy feet,
Spring’s blessings on the woodland shed
We too shall share, for we shall meet
When March has fled;
And all the things we left unsaid
Will find an utterance complete
In silence; and our hearts which bled
At Time and Space, with every beat
Will feel as Time and Space were dead—
For we shall clasp us close, my sweet,
When March has fled.