X For Expecting

Come, come, my love, the morning waits,

What magic now shall greet our sight!

What butterflies

Before our eyes

Shall vanish in the open light!

Come, while the sun has power to strike

Our household fires all dead and cold!

How softly now

The wind can blow-

When carrying off a field of gold!

Come, when behind some leafy hedge

We'll see a snow-white, new born lamb

No man has set

His eyes on yet-

Where it lies sleeping near its dam.

Come, come, my love, the morning waits,

The Sun is high, the dew has gone!

The air's as bright

As though the light

Of twelve May mornings came in one.