 | [Poems by Osgood in] The poetry of flowers and Flowers of Poetry |  |
47
COME DOWN TO ME.
JACOB'S LADDER.
Look! how the stars like jewels glisten,
Maiden, more pure than gem or star!
Lean from thy lattice, my love, and listen,
While I awake my wild guitar.
Maiden, more pure than gem or star!
Lean from thy lattice, my love, and listen,
While I awake my wild guitar.
See! I have flung a fair flower to thee,
May not its name my fond hope tell?
Oh! for thy lover, let it woo thee!
And ask thy blush what it means, “ma belle!”
May not its name my fond hope tell?
Oh! for thy lover, let it woo thee!
And ask thy blush what it means, “ma belle!”
Last night, the patriarch's dream was mine;—
An Angel came from heaven to me;—
Its smile—its tresses—were so like thine,
I think it could have been none but thee!
An Angel came from heaven to me;—
48
I think it could have been none but thee!
Then realize, love, that radiant dream,
Fly from thy tyrant's savage pride!
Descend—oh! seraph! by night's dim beam,
And morn shall hail, with a smile, my bride!
Fly from thy tyrant's savage pride!
Descend—oh! seraph! by night's dim beam,
And morn shall hail, with a smile, my bride!
| [Poems by Osgood in] The poetry of flowers and Flowers of Poetry | |