BETWEEN THE WINTER AND THE SPRING

Between the Winter and the Spring

One came to me at dead of night;

I heard him well as any might,

Although his lips, unmurmuring.

Made no sweet sounds for my delight;

Also, I knew him, though long days

( It seemed ) had fallen across my ways

Since I had felt his comforting.

It was quite dark, but I could see

His hair was yellow as the sun;

And his soft garments, every one,

Were white as angels’ throats may be;

And as some man whose pain is done

At last, and peace is surely his,

His eyes were perfect with great bliss

And seemed so glad to look at me.

I knew that he had come to bring

The change that I was waiting for,

And, as he crossed my rush-strewn floor,

I had no thought of questioning;

And then he kissed me, o'er and o'er,

Upon the eyes; so I fell

Asleep unfrightened,— knowing well

That morning would fulfil the Spring.

And when they came at early morn

And found that I at last was dead,

Some two or three knelt by my bed

And prayed for one they deemed forlorn;

But he they wept for only said

( Thinking of when the old days were ),

“Alas that God had need of her

The very morning Spring was born!”