Nocturne lyrics by Rosamund Marriott Watson
The air is dark and sweet
This wet spring night—
Spring, of the wandering feet,
The secret flight.
Calls through the slow, soft rain—
O voice of gold!
Calls to me once again.
As oft of old.
The darkness sighs and stirs,
Blind, blind and slow;
Night-wandering loiterers,
The veiled airs go ;
Mutes of the viewless spell,
The hidden power,
These—but my heart knows well
Its magic hour .
My heart’s one festival,
Oh, far or near.
The spring could never call
And I not hear :
Deep under graveyard grass,
It could not be,
The spring could never pass
And I not see .. .
My heart, my heart would break
Could it be so—
To think that spring should wake
And I not know.
Learn about Cyril Scott here.
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