What She Said

She said: Would I might sleep With the bulbs I plant so deep, Forgetting all the long Winter That I must awake and weep. A dreamless sleepy-head, Forgetting my Dear was dead; Nothing caring nor knowing While the dark season sped. I am so young, so young, And the years stretch out so long, The weeks and the months so endless; The long life does me wrong. I would grow old and grey, As though 'twere only a day, Till his voice came calling, calling To me under the clay. Then I should spring to the sun, Life done with, Life begun, And run where he waited to lift me Over the threshold stone. She sighed in the Autumn weather: -- Would I and the bulbs together, For Spring lay quietly waiting; I and the bulbs together.