Oh, the day has set me dreaming <br />In a strange, half solemn way <br />Of the feelings I experienced <br />On another long past day,-- <br />Of the way my heart made music <br />When the buds began to blow, <br />And o' little Lucy Landman <br />Whom I loved long years ago. <br /> <br />It 's in spring, the poet tells us, <br />That we turn to thoughts of love, <br />And our hearts go out a-wooing <br />With the lapwing and the dove. <br />But whene'er the soul goes seeking <br />Its twin-soul, upon the wing, <br />I 've a notion, backed by mem'ry, <br />That it's love that makes the spring. <br /> <br />I have heard a robin singing <br />When the boughs were brown and bare, <br />And the chilling hand of winter <br />Scattered jewels through the air. <br />And in spite of dates and seasons, <br />It was always spring, I know, <br />When I loved Lucy Landman <br />In the days of long ago. <br /> <br />Ah, my little Lucy Landman, <br />I remember you as well <br />As if 't were only yesterday <br />I strove your thoughts to tell,-- <br />When I tilted back your bonnet, <br />Looked into your eyes so true, <br />Just to see if you were loving <br />Me as I was loving you. <br /> <br />Ah, my little Lucy Landman <br />It is true it was denied <br />You should see a fuller summer <br />And an autumn by my side. <br />But the glance of love's sweet sunlight <br />Which your eyes that morning gave <br />Has kept spring within my bosom, <br />Though you lie within the grave.<br /><br />Paul Laurence Dunbar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/little-lucy-landman/
