What is it now that I shall seek <br />Where woods dip downward, in the hills?- <br />A mossy nook, a ferny creek, <br />And May among the daffodils. <br /> <br />Or in the valley's vistaed glow, <br />Past rocks of terraced trumpet vines, <br />Shall I behold her coming slow, <br />Sweet May, among the columbines? <br /> <br />With redbud cheeks and bluet eyes, <br />Big eyes, the homes of happiness, <br />To meet me with the old surprise, <br />Her wild-rose hair all bonnetless. <br /> <br />Who waits for me, where, note for note, <br />The birds make glad the forest trees?- <br />A dogwood blossom at her throat, <br />My May among th' anemones. <br /> <br />As sweetheart breezes kiss the blooms, <br />And dews caress the moon's pale beams, <br />My soul shall drink her lips' perfumes, <br />And know the magic of her dreams.<br /><br />Madison Julius Cawein<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/discovery-44/
