Invitation
"Ix happy hours, some hours, I spring ; From dense unhappiness I sing ; I dance up like a meadow lark Just where you thought there was never a thing.
I am not to be snared or trapped, Spied out, astronomised or mapped, And though you marked my last arising, My next shall be as quick-surprising ;
Love me not—
My love you have got; And hunt me fast- ' flitted past ; I know no date, but where I play It is perpetual proud today.
My wine is flashed in any cup That takes my eye, flower-bell or pitcher ; Now some roisterer holds it up And now the singing hedger and ditcher.
Told I more, you chance would dream
I meant to help you how to find me,—
Hear then : this my note, my gleam, And there your wit, will, strength and scheme-- Come, bind me 1" EDMUND BLUNDEN.
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