O TURN ONCE MORE

O turn once more!

The meadows where we mused and strayed together

Abound and glow yet with the ruby sorrel;

'Twas there the bluebirds fought and played together,

Their quarrel was a flying bluebird-quarrel;

Their nest is firm still in the burnished cherry,

They will come back there some day and be merry;

O turn once more.

O turn once more!

The spring we lingered at is ever steeping

The long, cool grasses where the violets hide,

Where you awoke the flower-heads from their sleeping

And plucked them, proud in their inviolate pride;

You left the roots, the roots will flower again,

O turn once more and pluck the flower again;

O turn once more.

O turn once more!

We were the first to find the fairy places

Where the tall lady-slippers scarf'd and snooded,

Painted their lovely thoughts upon their faces,

And then, bewitched by their own beauty brooded;

This will recur in some enchanted fashion;

Time will repeat his miracles of passion;

O turn once more.

O turn once more!

What heart is worth the longing for, the winning,

That is not moved by currents of surprise;

Who never breaks the silken thread in spinning,

Shows a bare spindle when the daylight dies;

The constant blood will yet flow full and tender;

The thread will mended be though gossamer-slender;

O turn once more.