 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
99
THE WHOLE NIGHT LONG.
That must have been the reason, that yesterday I heard
What made the hope of seeing you a hope for months deferred,
Why, though before I fancied I had conquered and was strong,
I went to bed—and dreamed of you the whole night long;
What made the hope of seeing you a hope for months deferred,
Why, though before I fancied I had conquered and was strong,
I went to bed—and dreamed of you the whole night long;
I had wooed an abstract Goddess, I had bowed before the feet
Of art, the marble Lady, and had found her worship sweet,
But night brought back reality, by day I did thee wrong,
Avenged thou art—I dreamed of thee the whole night long;
Of art, the marble Lady, and had found her worship sweet,
106
Avenged thou art—I dreamed of thee the whole night long;
In the clash of arms, so hath it our Tennyson, forgets
A man love's early savours and the younger years' regrets,
I doubt it—when the lull came, and ceased the cannons' song,
I think that I should dream of you the whole night long;
A man love's early savours and the younger years' regrets,
I doubt it—when the lull came, and ceased the cannons' song,
I think that I should dream of you the whole night long;
What do I care for Progress, the triumphant “march of mind?”
My eyes keep backward looking into eyes long left behind,
By day I fail to reach them, when sleep-lit fancies throng
They shine upon me tenderly the whole night long;
My eyes keep backward looking into eyes long left behind,
By day I fail to reach them, when sleep-lit fancies throng
They shine upon me tenderly the whole night long;
107
To merge oneself in action is well enough by day,
It's not so very hard then to drive a thought away,
How will it be when darkness puts a point to memory's prong?
Why—I shall lie and dream of you the whole night long;
It's not so very hard then to drive a thought away,
How will it be when darkness puts a point to memory's prong?
Why—I shall lie and dream of you the whole night long;
“Come be a man,” they say to one, “assert the inborn strength
Of manhood, why should any love become a love of length?”
I know not—but when silence slays the clatter of the gong
Of daytime, I shall dream of you the whole night long.
Of manhood, why should any love become a love of length?”
I know not—but when silence slays the clatter of the gong
Of daytime, I shall dream of you the whole night long.
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