Page:Poems and Baudelaire Flowers.djvu/26

22 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.

from the chair and shut the books,
 * The light is coming, the glad birds wake,

First the little ones, then the rooks–
 * O the hubbub those old rooks make!

They cease for a moment; a scarce-heard sigh
 * As the dawn wind rises, the cold trees stir;

As I look at their branches listlessly
 * Why is it, I wonder, I think of her?