<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=523153" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>He Loves And He Rides Away</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Twas in that island summer where<br>They spin the morning gossamer,<br>And weave the evening mist,<br>That, underneath the hawthorn-tree,<br>I loved my love, and my love loved me,<br>And there we lay and kissed,<br>And saw the happy ships upon the yielding sea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Soft my heart, and warm his wooing,<br>What we did seemed, while 'twas doing,<br>Beautiful and wise;<br>Wiser, fairer, more in tune,<br>Than all else in that sweet June,<br>And sinless as the skies<br>That warmed the willing earth thro' all the languid noon.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Ah that fatal spell!<br>Ere the evening fell<br>I fled away to hide my frightened face,<br>And cried that I was born,<br>And sobbed with love and scorn,<br>And in the darkness sought a darker place,<br>And blushed, and wept, and blushed, and dared not think of morn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Day and night, day and night,<br>And I saw no light,<br>Night and day, night and day,<br>And in my woe I lay<br>And dreamed the dreams they dream who cannot sleep:<br>My speech was withered, and I could not pray;<br>My tears were frozen, and I could not weep.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>I saw the hawthorn rise<br>Between me and the skies,<br>I felt the shadow was from pole to pole,<br>I felt the leaves were shed,<br>I felt the birds were dead,<br>And on the earth I snowed the winter of my soul.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Like to the hare wide eyed,<br>That with her throbbing side<br>Pressed to the rock awaits the coming cry,<br>In my despair I sate<br>And waited for my fate;<br>And as the hunted hare returns to die,<br>And with her latest breath<br>Regains her native heath,</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>So, when I heard the feet of destiny<br>Near and more near, and caught the yelp of death,<br>Toward the sounding sea,<br>Toward my hawthorn-tree,<br>Under the ignorant stars I darkly crept:<br>'There,' I said, 'they'll find me dead,<br>Lying within my maidenhead.'<br>And at my own unwonted voice, I wept;<br>And for my great heart-ache,<br>Within a little brake<br>I lay me weary down and weary slept,<br>Nor ever oped mine eyes till morn had left the lake.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Her morning bath was o'er,<br>And on the golden shore<br>She stood like Flora with her floral train,<br>And all her track was seen<br>Among the watery sheen,<br>That blushed, and wished, and blushing wished again,<br>And parted still, and closed, with pleasure that had been.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Oh the happy isle,<br>The universal smile<br>That met, as love meets love, the smile of day,<br>And touched and lit delight<br>Within the common light,<br>Till all the joy of life was ecstacy,<br>And morn's wild maids ran each her flowery way,<br>And shook her dripping locks o'er hill, and dale, and lea!<br>'At least,' I said, 'my tree is sear and blight,<br>My tree, my hawthorn-tree!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>With downcast eyes of fear<br>I drew me near and near,<br>Dazed with the dewy glory of the hour,<br>Till under-foot I see<br>A flower too dear to me:<br>I pause, and raise my full eyes from the flower,<br>And lo! my hawthorn-tree!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>As a white-limbed may,<br>In some illumined bay,<br>Flings round her shining charms in starry rain,<br>And with her body bright<br>Dazzles the waters white,<br>That fall from her fair form, and flee in vain,<br>Dyed with the dear unutterable sight,<br>And circle out her beauty thro' the circling main,</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>So my hawthorn-tree<br>Stood and seemed to me<br>The very face that smiled the summer smile:<br>All lesser light-bearers<br>Did light their lamps at hers-<br>She lit her own at heaven's, and looked the while<br>A purer sweeter sun,<br>Whence beauty was begun,<br>And blossomed from her blossoms thro' the blossoming isle.<br>Then I took heart, and as I looked upon<br>Her unstained white, I said, 'I am not wholly vile.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Thus my hawthorn-tree<br>Was my witness unto me,<br>And so I answered my impleading sin<br>Till blossom-time was o'er,<br>And with the autumn roar<br>Mine unrebuked accuser entered in,<br>And I fell down convinced, and strove with shame no more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Some time after came to me,<br>An image of the hawthorn-tree,<br>And bore the old sweet witness; and I heard,<br>And from among the dead<br>I lifted up my head,<br>As one lifts up to hear a little bird,<br>And finds the night is past and all the east is red.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Small and fair, choice and rare,<br>Snowy pale with moonlight hair,<br>My little one blossoms and springs!<br>Like joy with woe singing to it,<br>Like love with sorrow to woo it,<br>So my witty one so my pretty one sings!<br>And I see the white hawthorn-tree and the bright summer bird singing thro' it,<br>And my heart is prouder than kings!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>While I look on her I seem<br>Once again in the sweet dream<br>Of that enchanted day,<br>When, underneath the hawthorn-tree,<br>I loved my love and my love loved me:<br>And lost in love we lay,<br>And saw the happy ships upon the yielding sea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>While I look on her I seem<br>Once again in that bright dream,<br>Beautiful and wise:<br>Wiser, fairer, more in tune,<br>Than all else in that sweet June,<br>And sinless as the skies<br>That warmed the willing earth thro' all the languid noon.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Like my hawthorn-tree,<br>She stands and seems to me<br>The very face that smiles the summer smile:<br>All lesser light-bearers<br>Do light their lamps at hers-<br>She lights her own at heaven's, and looks the while<br>A sweeter purer sun,<br>Whence beauty is begun,<br>To blossom from that blossom thro' the blossoming isle.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Thou shalt not leave me, child!<br>Come weather fierce or mild,<br>My babe, my blossom! thou shalt never leave me!<br>Life shall never wean us,<br>Nor death shall e'er have room to come between us,<br>And time may grieve me but shall ne'er bereave me,<br>Nor see us more apart than he hath seen us.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>For I will fall with thee,<br>As a bird from the tree<br>Falls with a butterfly petal whitely shed,<br>And falling-thou and I-<br>I shall not dread to die,<br>But like a child I'll take my flower to bed.<br>And when the long cold death-night hath gone by,<br>In the great darkness of the sepulchre<br>I'll feel and find thee near,<br>My babe, my white white blossom!<br>And when the trumpet cries,<br>I shall not fear to rise,<br>But wear thee o'er the spot upon my bosom,<br>And come out of my grave and bear the awful eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Sydney+Thompson+Dobell">Sydney Thompson Dobell</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=523153" data-title="He Loves And He Rides Away de Sydney Thompson Dobell" data-description="'Twas in that island summer where They spin the morning gossamer, And weave the evening mist, That, underneath the hawthorn-tree, I loved my love, and my love loved me, And there we lay and kissed, And saw the happy ships upon the yielding sea. ..."></div> </div> </div>

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