 | Duganne's Poetical Works |  |
385
SLEEP-LOVE.
WHERE is the maid with dark-brown tresses,
Ever with me in my dreams?—
Sweetly her form my spirit blesses,
Greets my heart in sunny gleams.
Ever with me in my dreams?—
Sweetly her form my spirit blesses,
Greets my heart in sunny gleams.
In my lone soul her voice is thrilling,
Like an angel's whispering;
Softly it cometh—passion stilling—
Dove-like, “healing on its wing.”
Like an angel's whispering;
Softly it cometh—passion stilling—
Dove-like, “healing on its wing.”
Darkly, and yet in love, are bending
Over me those angel eyes;
Love and sorrowing joy are blending
In their holy mysteries.
Over me those angel eyes;
Love and sorrowing joy are blending
In their holy mysteries.
Clasp me within thine arms my love, now;
Is it all a dream—a dream?
Angels! gaze ye from above, now!
Ye my love's own sister seem.
Is it all a dream—a dream?
Angels! gaze ye from above, now!
Ye my love's own sister seem.
| Duganne's Poetical Works | |