Bend low, O dusky Night, And give my spirit rest. Hold me to your deep breast, And put old cares to flight. Give back the lost delight That once my soul possest, When Love was loveliest. Bend low, O dusky Night! Enfold me in your arms— The sole embrace I crave Until the embracing grave Shield me from life’s alarms. I dare your subtlest charms; Your deepest spell I brave,— O, strong to slay or save, Enfold me in your arms!
A Picture by Burne-Jones PALLID with too much longing, White with passion and prayer, Goddess of love and beauty, She sits in the picture there,— Sits with her dark eyes seeking Something more subtle still Than the old delights of loving Her measureless days to fill. She has loved and...
Roses and butterflies snared on a fan, All that is left of summer gone by; Of swift, bright wings that flashed in the sun, And loveliest blossoms that bloomed to die! By what subtle spell did you lure them here, Fixing a beauty that will not change,— Roses whose petals never will fall,...
The Spacious Noon enfolds me with its peace— The affluent Midsummer wraps me round— So still the earth and air, that scarce a sound Affronts the silence, and the swift caprice Of one stray bird’s lone call does but increase The sense of some compelling hush profound, Some spell by which...
Round among the quiet graves, When the sun was low, Love went grieving,—Love who saves: Did the sleepers know? At his touch the flowers awoke, At his tender call Birds into sweet singing broke, And it did befall From the blooming, bursting sod All Love’s dead arose...
As the wind at play with a spark Of fire that glows through the night, As the speed of the soaring lark That wings to the sky his flight, So swiftly thy soul has sped On its upward, wonderful way, Like the lark, when the dawn is red, In search of the shining day. Thou art not with the...
