Classic Poem

Come , come again, my darling,
Come, come again art thou,
Like some good angel shining
Beneath the beechen bough;
And though the wind of winter
Is filling up the place,
And snow is drifted round thee,
A smile is on thy face.

How lovely art thou looking
Beneath this cloudy sky,
As if the snowy tempest
Brought beauty to thine eye!
So have I known a poet,
Beneath his household tree,
Sing sweetest in his sorrow,
A copyist of thee.

Let's bend me down and kiss thee,
Like children at their play,
And take thy fragrance with me,
And hasten on my way:
Thy memory oft will cheer me
Life's thorny thicket o'er;
The footsteps of thy Maker
Are heard upon the moor.

We know it; yes, we know it,
That Spring will soon be here;
She's coming through the valleys,
With hyacinths so dear;
She's coming, yes, she's coming,
The daisy-studded queen,
To chase away the darkness,
And fill the earth with green.