Mid-day

The lilac blows in my heart
Deep within the park
The trees drip soft and dark—
The lilac blows, the lilac blows
Within my heart.

It is mid-day, no Sun
Is shining in this place,
Lit with grey dove-soft grace
Of Water, Cloud, and dripping, drooping Trees;
No Moon, no Sun.

Silence, a willow bough
Hangs in the moving stream;
Bend low my Soul, a Dream
On visionary banks of life,
Art standing now!

As water dark with Trees
I see Time flowing by,
The woods flower up and die,
Faint shadowy water-blooms that fade away,
Lovelier than these.

Art thou, O Spirit, mirrored like a Bough
In the dark tide,
The Spring thy white, white bride;
The lilac in her heart that blows
Thy vow!