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244

LII. BUD AND BLOSSOM.

My thoughts are with thee, Dear One!—Vale and hill
Are shaded into slumber; and the Night
Seems gather'd in itself—it is so still!
Darkness devours the clouds, in her broad flight
From east to west; and that most silent hour
Which so to Heaven the guilty Spirit bringeth
That from its depths an “Alleluia” springeth,
Now fills grey Time's old glass, and with its power
Lures me to love-dreams of thy babe and thee.
I see her smiling on thy cradle-knee:
Her lips from thy fond bosom just withdrawn;
And thine enamour'd eyes o'er her eyes bent
(A bud and blossom in one sweetness blent!)
Hailing thine own life in its second dawn.