The Broken Tryst

The dropping words of larks, the sweetest tongue That sings between the dusks, tell all of you; The bursting white of Peace is all along Wing-ways, and pearly droppings of the dew Emberyl the cobwebs' greyness, and the blue Of hiding violets, watching for your face, Listen for you in every dusky place.

You will not answer when I call your name, But in the fog of blossom do you hide To change my doubts into a red-faced shame By'n by when you are laughing by my side? Or will you never come, or have you died, And I in anguish have forgotten all? And shall the world now end and the heavens fall?