Classic Poem

I

O SKY , thou art far too blue!
Pine for the sweet soft rain the tremulous ferns
And the scorched grasses and the blossom-urns,
Ay, in his lonely glade the great oak yearns:
Even water-lilies swoon
In the long languid noon,
Since slow and shallow is the streamlet's lymph,
Home of the Naiad nymph:
O sterile sky, yield thy refreshing dew!

II

O love, thou art far too gay!
Thy lips laugh always and thy bright eyes shine,
And both are mine, you darling, both are mine,
And love is sweeter than the summer's wine:
Yet, even in thy sleep,
Just for a moment weep,
Or let some fanciful and foolish fears
Soften those eyes with tears.
O love, I want some tears to kiss away!