O Turn Once More

O turn once more!     The meadows where we mused and strayed together     Abound and glow yet with the ruby sorrel;     'Twas there the bluebirds fought and played together,     Their quarrel was a flying bluebird-quarrel;     Their nest is firm still in the burnished cherry,     They will come back there some day and be merry;     O turn once more.     O turn once more!     The spring we lingered at is ever steeping     The long, cool grasses where the violets hide,     Where you awoke the flower-heads from their sleeping     And plucked them, proud in their inviolate pride;     You left the roots, the roots will flower again,     O turn once more and pluck the flower again;     O turn once more.     O turn once more!     We were the first to find the fairy places     Where the tall lady-slippers scarf'd and snooded,     Painted their lovely thoughts upon their faces,     And then, bewitched by their own beauty brooded;     This will recur in some enchanted fashion;     Time will repeat his miracles of passion;     O turn once more.     O turn once more!     What heart is worth the longing for, the winning,     That is not moved by currents of surprise;     Who never breaks the silken thread in spinning,     Shows a bare spindle when the daylight dies;     The constant blood will yet flow full and tender;     The thread will mended be though gossamer-slender;     O turn once more.