The Gates of Time and Other Poems

by Frederick George Scott


 

MUTE LOVE


 

Love was wanting songs to sing
    On a golden day,
When the earth was bright with Spring
    And the flowers of May.

So he lay beside the brink

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    Of a quiet stream,
Where the cattle go to drink
    And the clouds to dream.

Sunbeams lit the woods around,
    Breezes fanned his cheek,

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And the blossoms on the ground
    Almost seemed to speak.

In the branches overhead
    Robin sang his love,
And the tender things he said

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    Filled the skies above.

Flitting through the scented air
    Where the stream was bright,
Little flies went here and there,
    Crazy with delight.

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But though all were bright and glad,
    Silent was Love’s lute,
For such happiness he had
    That his lips were mute.

So he lay there in the grass

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    By the quiet stream,
And he watched the cattle pass
    And the shadows dream.

Till when evening, dumb and grey,
    Closed the buds that had uncurled,

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Full of song he stole away
    Down the music of the world.