Explore "Vagabonds" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Your heart's a-tune with April and mine a-tune with June, / So let us go a-roving beneath the summer moon: / Oh, was it in the sunlight, or was it in the rain, / We met among the blossoms within the locust lane? / All that I can remember's the bird that sang aboon, / And with its music in our hearts we'll rove beneath the moon.
A love-word of the wind, dear, of which we'll read the rune, / While we still go a-roving beneath the summer moon: / A love-kiss of the water we'll often stop to hear -- / The echoed words and kisses of our own love, my dear: / And all our path shall blossom with wild-rose sweets that swoon, / And with their fragrance in our hearts we'll rove beneath the moon.
It will not be forever, yet merry goes the tune / While we still go a-roving beneath the summer moon: / A cabin, in the clearing, of flickering firelight / When old-time lanes we strolled in the winter snows make white: / Where we can nod together above the logs and croon / The songs we sang when roving beneath the summer moon.