Because the skies were blue, because, The sun in fringes of the sea Kept dancing on as in a waltz, And tropic trees bow'd to the seas, And bloom'd and bore, years through and through, And birds in blended gold and blue Were thick and sweet as swarming bees, And sang as if in paradise, And all that paradise was spring Did I too sing with lifted eyes, Because I could not choose but sing. With garments full of sea-winds blown My childhood's child! my June in May! So wiser than thy father is, These lines, these leaves, and all of this Are thine, a loose, uncouth boquet. I throw a kiss across the sea, I drink the winds as drinking wine, And dream they all are blown from thee: I catch the whisper'd kiss of thine. Shall I return with lifted face, Or head held down as in disgrace, To hold thy two brown hands in mine? ENGLAND, 1871. |