A VALENTINE

Previous
BRING me my lute, the sunlight fades;
The evening breezes, soft and low,
From the far South begin to blow.
Here will I watch the dying day:
Here will I watch the pallid skies
Flush with a myriad changing dyes.
What joy to see the fairy moon
Cradled in folds of rosy light,
The baby sovereign of the night.
What joy to hear, from far away,
The rolling mill-stream roaring go
Between his banks of ice and snow;
Or from the distant mountain’s side,
To hear the murmuring wind, that brings
Promise of Spring between its wings.
Here at my window will I sit;
Here, will I let the peaceful hour
Try on my heart her aËry power.
This happy season sings of Thee,
Where’er I turn my careless eyes
Thine image will before them rise;
Not as thou art in human form;
I cannot shape thy phantom so,
The fleeting shadows come and go.
Thy face is fair with roseate bloom—
I lift my eyes and lo! the sun
Reddens the cloud he looks upon—
Thine eyes with deepening azure smile—
Beyond the hills a line of blue
Recalls the sunlit morning’s dew.
On either side thy thoughtful brow
Thy golden hair is floating free—
Yon golden cloud is fair to see—
As floating from the purple West,
Its glory slowly gathers dun
And fadeth with the fading sun.
Ah! was it all an idle dream?
A fleeting sunset fed my thought,
And all this cloudy vision wrought?
Or does the maiden somewhere bloom
Whom Nature cannot paint aright
Her beauty is so passing bright?

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page