Classic Poem

There have been many Junes with larkspur blowing,
Many Octobers with crimson-berried haws,
When from the heart regret like smoke withdraws,
Wreath after wreath, to watch the sunrise glowing
Or see tall poplars make so brave a showing
Against pale skies at twilight. There were no flaws
To mar the summer for me; never pause
In my delight for winds and waters flowing.

Yet was all beauty, beauty uncompleted,
Vaguely perceived, not truly heard and seen;
Or seen as are the hills with mist between,
Or heard as song thin echoes have repeated;
Until you gave earth meaning, giving me
The love that lifts the heart to hear and see.