At Last

Down, down like a pale leaf dropping Under an autumn sky, My love dropped into my bosom Quietly, quietly. There was not a ray of sunshine And not a sound in the air, As she trembled into my bosom-- My love, no longer fair. All year round in her beauty She dwelt on the tree-top high: She danced in the summer breezes, She laughed to the summer sky. I lay so low in the grass-dews, She sat so high above, She never wist of my longing, She never dreamed of my life. But when winds lay bare her dwelling, And her heart could find no rest, I called--and she fluttered downward Into my faithful breast. I know that my love is fading; I know I cannot fold Her fragrance from the frost-blight, Her beauty from the mould: But a little, little longer She shall contented lie, And wither away in the sunshine Silently, silently. Come when thou wilt, grim Winter, My year is crowned and blest If when my love is dying She die upon my breast.