LXX
HOW sweet to me are these soft days of spring;
But how much sweeter, did thy beauty bear,
Like cherry blossoms o’er the flowering air,
Its scented fragrance to me; and did bring
Some songs of love, like birds upon the wing,
To tell me that my love, with thine, might share
These lovers’ hours, that in the spring appear,
And o’er the earth their efflorescence fling.
Ah, Love! thy winter’s waiting hath well-nigh
This heart of mine, for love of thee, so broken,
That it hath scarce the power to beat to-day.
’Twere time, indeed, to compensate my sigh
At last with Love’s unutterable token,
That shall not with the seasons fade away.