Among the Millet

by Archibald Lampman




Yearning upon the faint rose-curves that flit
    About her child-sweet mouth and innocent cheek,
    And in her eyes watching with eyes all meek
The light and shadow of laughter, I would sit
Mute, knowing out two souls might never knit;                            5
    As if a pale proud lily-flower should seek
    The love of some red rose, but could not speak
One word of her blithe tongue to tell of it.

For oh, my Love was sunny-lipped and stirred
    With all swift light and sound and gloom not long                  10
Retained; I, with dreams weighed, that ever heard
    Sad burdens echoing through the loudest throng
She, the wild song of some May-merry bird;
    I, but the listening maker of a song.