Classic Poem

Hush , my pretty one. Not yet.
Wait a little, only wait.
Other blue flowers are as wet
As your eyes, outside the gate
He has shut forever. — But
Is the gate forever shut?

Just a young man in the rain
Saying (the last time?) " good-night! "
Should he never come again
Would the world be ended quite?
Where would all these rose-buds go? —
All these robins? Do you know?

But — he will not come? Why, then,
Is no other within call?
There are men, and men, and men —
And these men are brothers all!
Each sweet fault of his you 'll find
Just as sweet in all his kind.

None with eyes like his? Oh — oh!
In diviner ones did I
Look, perhaps, an hour ago,
Whose? Indeed (you must not cry)
Those I thought of — are not free
To laugh down your tears, you see.

Voice like his was never heard?
No — but better ones, I vow;
Did you ever hear a bird? —
Listen, one is singing now!
And his gloves? His gloves? Ah, well,
There are gloves like his to sell.

At the play to-night you 'll see,
In mock-velvet cloaks, mock earls
With mock-jewelled swords, that he
Were a clown by! Now, those curls
Are the barber's pride, I say;
Do not cry for them, I pray.

If no one should love you? Why,
You can love some other still:
Philip Sidney, Shakespeare, ay,
Good King Arthur, if you will;
Raphael — he was handsome too.
Love them one and all. I do.