Along the garden ways just now <br />I heard the flowers speak; <br />The white rose told me of your brow, <br />The red rose of your cheek; <br />The lily of your bended head, <br />The bindweed of your hair: <br />Each looked its loveliest and said <br />You were more fair. <br /> <br />I went into the wood anon, <br />And heard the wild birds sing <br />How sweet you were; they warbled on, <br />Piped, trilled the self-same thing. <br />Thrush, blackbird, linnet, without pause, <br />The burden did repeat, <br />And still began again because <br />You were more sweet. <br /> <br />And then I went down to the sea, <br />And heard it murmuring too, <br />Part of an ancient mystery, <br />All made of me and you. <br />How many a thousand years ago <br />I loved, and you were sweet-- <br />Longer I could not stay, and so <br />I fled back to your feet.<br /><br />Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-love-symphony/
