Kate! if e’er thy light foot lingers On the lawn, when up the fells Steals the Dark, and fairy fingers Close unseen the pimpernels: When, his thighs with sweetness laden, From the meadow comes the bee, And the lover and the maiden Stand beneath the trysting tree:— Lingers on, till stars unnumber’d Tremble in the breeze-swept tarn, And the bat that all day slumber’d Flits about the lonely barn; And the shapes that shrink from garish Noon are peopling cairn and lea; And thy sire is almost bearish If kept waiting for his tea:— And the screech-owl scares the peasant As he skirts some churchyard drear; And the goblins whisper pleasant Tales in Miss Rossetti’s ear; Importuning her in strangest, Sweetest tones to buy their fruits:— O be careful that thou changest, On returning home, thy boots.
|
|