Ah, help me! but her face and brow Are lovelier than lilies are Beneath the light of moon and star That smile as they are smiling now— White lilies in a pallid swoon Of sweetest white beneath the moon— White lilies, in a flood of bright Pure lucidness of liquid light Cascading down some plenilune, When all the azure overhead Blooms like a dazzling daisy-bed.— So luminous her face and brow, The luster of their glory, shed In memory, even, blinds me now. |