Song be Delicate

Let your song be delicate.
  The skies declare
No war — the eyes of lovers
  Wake everywhere.

Let your voice be delicate.
  How faint a thing
Is Love, little Love crying
  Under the Spring.

Let your song be delicate.
  The flowers can hear:
Too well they know the tremble,
  Of the hollow year.

Let your voice be delicate.
  The bees are home:
All their day's love is sunken
  Safe in the comb.

Let your song be delicate.
  Sing no loud hymn:
Death is abroad . . . Oh, the black season!
  The deep — the dim!