Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.

Thomas Osborne Davis 1814–45

The Welcome

COME in the evening, or come in the morning;

Come when you ’re look’d for, or come without warning:

Kisses and welcome you ’ll find here before you,

And the oftener you come here the more I ’ll adore you!

Light is my heart since the day we were plighted;

Red is my cheek that they told me was blighted;

The green of the trees looks far greener than ever,

And the linnets are singing, “True lovers don’t sever!”

I ’ll pull you sweet flowers, to wear if you choose them,—

Or, after you’ve kiss’d them, they ’ll lie on my bosom;

I ’ll fetch from the mountain its breeze to inspire you;

I ’ll fetch from my fancy a tale that won’t tire you.

Oh! your step’s like the rain to the summer-vex’d farmer,

Or sabre and shield to a knight without armor;

I ’ll sing you sweet songs till the stars rise above me,

Then, wandering, I ’ll wish you in silence to love me.

We ’ll look through the trees at the cliff and the eyrie;

We ’ll tread round the rath on the track of the fairy;

We ’ll look on the stars, and we ’ll list to the river,

Till you ask of your darling what gift you can give her:

Oh! she ’ll whisper you—“Love, as unchangeably beaming,

And trust, when in secret, most tunefully streaming;

Till the starlight of heaven above us shall quiver,

As our souls flow in one down eternity’s river.”