THE COMING OF LOVE.

In and out the osier beds, all along the shallows
Lifts and laughs the soft south wind, or swoons among
                                                                 the grasses.
But ah, whose following feet are these that bend the gold
                                                                 marsh-mallows,
    Who laughs so low and sweet? Who sighs—and
                                                                 passes?

Flower of my heart, my darling, why so slowly
Lift’st thou thine eyes to mine, deep wells of gladness?
Too deep this new-found joy, and this new pain too holy—
    Or is there dread in thy heart of this divinest mad-
                                                                 ness?

Who sighs with longing there?—who laughs alow—
                                                                 and passes?
Whose following feet are these that bend the gold marsh-
                                                                 mallows?
Who comes upon the wind that stirs the heavy seeding
                                                                 grasses,
    In and out the osier beds, and hither through the
                                                                 shallows?

Flower of my heart, my dream—who whispers near so
                                                                 gladly?
Whose is the golden sunshine-net o’erspread for cap-
                                                                 ture?
Lift, lift thine eyes to mine who love so wildly, madly—
    Those eyes of brave desire, deep wells o’erbrimmed
                                                                 with rapture!

                                                                  GEO. GASCOIGNE.