Poem By Radclyffe Hall

The thought of you has filled the night with wonder,
The dawn with praise,
Till all my senses thrill, like roses under
The morning's rays.

This love of ours has clad with new-found splendour
The hills and streams,
No forest glade but sighs of vast surrender,
In noontide dreams,

No star in heaven but grants a starry lover
Some tender boon,
No drifting cloud but longs to clasp and cover
His lady Moon.

No song of bird that is not song of mating,
In sylvan shade,
No sigh of wind that is not sigh of waiting
For bliss delayed.

The world itself a garden, where we wander
'Mid passion flowers,
Or pause to kiss a while, and fondly ponder
This joy of ours.

Comments about Ardour

There is no comment submitted by members.

Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of HALL


Butterfly, butterfly, where are you going?
'Over the roses into the sky.'
Butterfly, butterfly, there is no knowing
When you'll come back again, so good-bye!

Eastnor Churchyard

I BE hopin' you remember,
Now the Spring has come again,
How we used to gather violets
By the Uttle church at Eastnor,

The Malvern Hills

The Malvern Hills be green some days.
And some days purple-blue,
There never was the like of them
The whole of England through.

The First Cuckoo

To-day I heard the cuckoo call.
Atop of Bredon Hill,
I heard him near the blackthorn bush,
And Oh ! my heart stood still !

Dusk In The Lane

Come, put yer little hand in mine.
And let it be at rest.
It minds me of a tired bird
Within a warm brown nest ;

The Meeting Place

I MIND me of the hawthorn trees,
With cuckoos flying near ;
The hawthorn blossoms smelt so sweet,
The cuckoo called so clear !