The Music (Coming Nearer)
Morn shall meet noon
While the flower-stems yet move,
Though the wind dieth soon
And the clouds fade above.
Loved lips are thine
As I tremble and hearken;
Bright thine eyes shine,
Though the leaves thy brow darken.
O Love, kiss me into silence, lest no word avail me,
Stay my head with thy bosom lest breath and life fail me!
O sweet day, O rich day, made long for our love!
LOVE
Was Love then a liar who fashioned thy dreaming?
KING PHARAMOND
O fair-blossomed tree, stay thy rustling—I hearken.