 | Duganne's Poetical Works |  |
A FANTASIE.
I SIT beside my gentle one:
Her hand is laid in mine;
And thus we watch the parting sun
In golden haze decline.
Across the fields the shadows creep,
And up the misty hill;
And we our twilight vigils keep,
At our own cottage-sill.
Her hand is laid in mine;
And thus we watch the parting sun
In golden haze decline.
Across the fields the shadows creep,
And up the misty hill;
And we our twilight vigils keep,
At our own cottage-sill.
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The distant brooklet's murmurs come,
Like bell-notes through the leaves;
And many an insect's mazy hum
Its dreamy music weaves.
The dove's last note, in rippling beats,
Upon the air departs;
The breath of all our garden sweets
Is creeping to our hearts.
Like bell-notes through the leaves;
And many an insect's mazy hum
Its dreamy music weaves.
The dove's last note, in rippling beats,
Upon the air departs;
The breath of all our garden sweets
Is creeping to our hearts.
The russet woodbine round our porch,
In clustering ringlets twines;
The honeysuckle's crimson torch
Gleams through the dusky vines;
The sunset rays are trembling now
Amid the trellis-bars—
They paint upon my darling's brow
A glory like the stars.
In clustering ringlets twines;
The honeysuckle's crimson torch
Gleams through the dusky vines;
The sunset rays are trembling now
Amid the trellis-bars—
They paint upon my darling's brow
A glory like the stars.
Her cheek is nestling on my breast,
Her eyes are bright with tears;
A prayer, half-breathed and half-represt,
My listening spirit hears.
Oh! blesséd be the changeless love
That glorifies my life!
All doubt, all fear, all guile above—
My own true-hearted wife!
Her eyes are bright with tears;
A prayer, half-breathed and half-represt,
My listening spirit hears.
Oh! blesséd be the changeless love
That glorifies my life!
All doubt, all fear, all guile above—
My own true-hearted wife!
| Duganne's Poetical Works | |