Explore "Some Verses: Sonnets: THE COMING OF LOVE" by Helen Hay Whitney on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I dreamed that love came, as the oak trees grow, / By the chance dropping of a tiny seed; / And then from moon to moon with steady speed, / Tho' torn by winds and chilled with heedless snow, / The sap of pulsing life would upward flow, / 'Till in its might the heavens themselves could read / Portents of power that they must learn to heed.
This was my dream -- the waking proved not so -- / For love came like a flower, and grew apace; / I saw it blossom tenderly and frail / Till the dear Spring had run its eager race, / Then the rough wind tossed wide the petals red; / The seeds fell far in soil beyond my pale.
I know not, now, if love be lost, or dead.