If haply thou, O Desdemona Morn, <br /> Shouldst call along the curving sphere, "Remain, <br />Dear Night, sweet Moor; nay, leave me not in scorn!" <br /> With soft halloos of heavenly love and pain; -- <br /> <br />Shouldst thou, O Spring! a-cower in coverts dark, <br /> 'Gainst proud supplanting Summer sing thy plea, <br />And move the mighty woods through mailed bark <br /> Till mortal heart-break throbbed in every tree; -- <br /> <br />Or (grievous `if' that may be `yea' o'er-soon!), <br /> If thou, my Heart, long holden from thy Sweet, <br />Shouldst knock Death's door with mellow shocks of tune, <br /> Sad inquiry to make -- `When may we meet?' <br /> <br />Nay, if ye three, O Morn! O Spring! O Heart! <br /> Should chant grave unisons of grief and love; <br />Ye could not mourn with more melodious art <br /> Than daily doth yon dim sequestered dove.<br /><br />Sidney Lanier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dove/
