August 12, 2012

There has Fallen a Splendid Tear

There has fallen a splendid tear 
From the passion-flower at the gate. 
She is coming, my dove, my dear; 
She is coming, my life, my fate; 
The red rose cries,'She is near, she is near;' 
And the white rose weeps,'She is late;' 
The larkspur listens,'I hear, I hear;' 
And the lily whispers,'I wait.' 
She is coming, my own, my sweet; 
Were it ever so airya tread, 
My heart would hear her and beat, 
Were it earth in an earthy bed; 
My dust would hear her and beat; 
Had I lain for a century dead; 
Would start and tremble under her feet, 
And blossom in purple and red.
Tennyson makes me swoon. 
Seems a good way to start the week.
Hope it is a lovely one for each of you. 

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