Leave not your bough, my slender song-bird sweet,
But pipe me now your roundelay complete.
Come, gentle breeze, and tarrying on your way,
Whisper my trees what you have seen to-day.
Stand, golden cloud, until my song be done,
(For he's too proud) before the face of the sun.
So one did sing, and the other breathed a story;
Then both took wing, and the sun stepped forth in glory.
Companions
Siegfried Sassoon
(1)
Poem topics: cloud, wing, bird, gentle, sweet, face, whisper, story, complete, stand, golden, Valentine's Day, song, sun, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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