Songs of the Sea Children

by Bliss Carman


 

XV


 

O purple-black are the wet quince boughs,
Where the buds begin to burn! 
And fair enough is Spring's new house, 
Made fresh for Love's return.

She has taken him in and locked the door,

5
And thrown away the key. 
When Free-foot finds his Rove-no-more, 
What use is liberty?