Under the Locust Blossoms

Under the locust blossoms
That hung and smelt like grapes:
Under the honey-locust blossoms,—
Faintly their breath escapes
And smites my heart; though years have passed since I
Beheld those clusters swinging silently,
Silver racemes against that sunset sky:

A sky all over rosy.
I waited for the night
Till the crickets tinkled drowsy
In their beds of clover white
Or fell silent at my footfall, one by one.
Did I wait? Did I wander there alone,
Under shadow, in that garden not my own?

'Tis but a shade of odour,
A recollected breath,
And I stand, a dark intruder
The swaying flowers beneath,
Alone, and peering on through anxious gloom
For a motion, for a glimmer; did it come?
Oh that moment! Oh that breath of locust bloom!
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