Poems (Spofford)/Longing
For works with similar titles, see Longing.
LONGING.
O bright wings, flashing round me in your flight
Within the hollow heaven's shining height,
A sparkling sapphire and a ruby's blaze,
The living light of these long Southern days;
Redbirds, that on the dark sprays cling and swing
As if pomegranate flowers themselves took wing;
Soft turtle-doves, that murmur in the shade
The fig-tree on the summer sward has laid;
O mocking-birds, that on the topmost bough
Wake all the world with music,—gladly now
To all your song would I be deaf, and blind
To all your beauty, could I only mind
Among my orchard's cloud of apple blooms,
Deep in the heart of all their dewy glooms,
The robin's first soft flute-note when the light
Begins to stir in the dark nest of night!
Within the hollow heaven's shining height,
A sparkling sapphire and a ruby's blaze,
The living light of these long Southern days;
Redbirds, that on the dark sprays cling and swing
As if pomegranate flowers themselves took wing;
Soft turtle-doves, that murmur in the shade
The fig-tree on the summer sward has laid;
O mocking-birds, that on the topmost bough
Wake all the world with music,—gladly now
To all your song would I be deaf, and blind
To all your beauty, could I only mind
Among my orchard's cloud of apple blooms,
Deep in the heart of all their dewy glooms,
The robin's first soft flute-note when the light
Begins to stir in the dark nest of night!