Poetry Archives

1080

When they come back—if Blossoms do—
I always feel a doubt
If Blossoms can be born again
When once the Art is out—

When they begin, if Robins may,
I always had a fear
I did not tell, it was their last Experiment
Last Year,

When it is May, if May return,
Had nobody a pang
Lest in a Face so beautiful
He might not look again?

If I am there—One does not know
What Party—One may be
Tomorrow, but if I am there
I take back all I say—