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.