English poem
A Love Song
by Virna Sheard
Oh haste thee, Sweet! Impatient now I wait, The crescent moon swings low,--it groweth late,-- A night-bird sings of Life, and Love, and Fate!--
Oh haste, my Sweet! Youth and its gladness goes; Joy hath one summer time--like to the rose Love only, lives through all the winter's snows.
So haste, my Sweet! These hours are all our own: But see!--A rose-leaf on the night-wind blown,-- For thee I wait--for thee I wait alone!-- So haste, my Sweet!