HOMESICK
( ON A RAINY DAY )
OH, tell me not of any mirth; I know them all by heart — Fond laughter wavering by the hearth, Shrill songs of field and cart.
Oh, tell me not of any grief, For I do know them all — Slim, empty chambers, wane of leaf, And tears, tears that befall.
Oh, tell me not of beauty's glass, I know it through and through; Old loves, each flower within the grass, Is fashioned like to you.
Jest, weeping, daring beauty, too, Starlight and jocund dawn; I learned them everyone from you, That now are lost and gone.
Old loves, old house worn dear and thin, One thing is left of all; — I hear the little rains begin Along the orchard wall.