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The Voicce of Thy Lute at the Eve!
When the voice of thy lute at the eve Charmeth the ear, In the hour of enchantment believe What I murmur near. That the tune can the Age of Gold With its magic restore. Play on, play on, my fair one, Play on for evermore. When thy laugh like the song of the dawn Riseth so gay That the shadows of Night are withdrawn And melt away, I remember my years of care And misgiving no more. Laugh on, laugh on, my fair one, Laugh on for evermore. When thy sleep like the moonlight above Lulling the sea, Doth enwind thee in visions of love, Perchance, of me! I can watch so in dream that enthralled me, Never before! Sleep on, sleep on, my fair one! Sleep on for evermore.
The Grave And The Rose
The Grave said to the Rose, “What of the dews of dawn, Love’s flower, what end is theirs?” “And what of spirits flown, The souls whereon doth close The tomb’s mouth unawares?” The Rose said to the Grave. The Rose said, “In the shade From the dawn’s tears is made A perfume faint and strange, Amber and honey sweet.” “And all the spirits fleet Do suffer a sky-change, More strangely than the dew, To God’s own angels new,” The Grave said to the Rose.
A Light Exists In Spring !
A Light exists in Spring Not present on the Year At any other period – When March is scarcely here A Color stands abroad On Solitary Fields That Science cannot overtake But Human Nature feels. It waits upon the Lawn, It shows the furthest Tree Upon the furthest Slope you know It almost speaks to you. Then as Horizons step Or Noons report away Without the Formula of sound It passes and we stay – A quality of loss Affecting our Content As Trade had suddenly encroached Upon a Sacrament.
