Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/322

 And thirsting for joy of his voice: Till the hearts in us hear and rejoice, And the thoughts of them doubting and darkening Rejoice with a glad thing found.

When the heart of our gladness is gone, What comfort is left with us after? When the light of our eyes is away, What glory remains upon May, What blessing of song is thereon If we drink not the light of his laughter?

No small sweet face with the daytime To welcome, warmer than noon! No sweet small voice as a bird's To bring us the day's first words! Mid May for us here is not Maytime! No summer begins with June.

A whole dead month in the dark, A dawn in the mists that o'ercome her Stifled and smothered and sad— Swift speed to it, barren and bad! And return to us, voice of the lark, And remain with us, sunlight of summer.