A lover begs someone dear to ride out into the night with him — but it’s not a simple invitation. The poem unfolds in an urgent, rhythmic series of questions that shift from the hopeful “Will you come?” to the more doubtful “Would you come?” and finally to the regretful “Would you have come?” With each repetition, you can feel the speaker’s confidence fraying. He’s no longer sure his beloved would say yes, even under a bright moon, even in broad daylight. The mood is deeply wistful and tense. Affectionate names — “Beautiful,” “Beloved” — sound tender but also desperate, as if he’s trying to charm away a rejection. Then, in the closing lines, the tone quickens: owls cry out, evening is falling fast, and the invitation becomes an almost breathless command. There’s a real ache here, a longing that might not be returned. The poem leaves you with the sense of a darkening road and an unanswered question.
Will You Come? — Summary
WILL you come? Will you come? Will you ride So late At my side? O, will you come?
Will you come? Will you come If the night Has a moon, Full and bright? O, will you come?
Would you come? Would you come If the noon Gave light, Not the moon? Beautiful, would you come?
Would you have come? Would you have come Without scorning, Had it been Still morning? Beloved, would you have come?
If you come Haste and come. Owls have cried: It grows dark To ride. Beloved, beautiful, come.