 | Songs and ballads |  |
18
THE COTTAGE DOOR.
The starry silence falls
Along my sylvan way,
A spirit walks the earth,
We never meet by day;
And list'ning to the voice
Of years that are no more;
My feet—Oh! know'st thou why?
Have wandered to thy door.
Along my sylvan way,
A spirit walks the earth,
We never meet by day;
And list'ning to the voice
Of years that are no more;
My feet—Oh! know'st thou why?
Have wandered to thy door.
The quiet taper burns
And makes thy casement bright,
And soft thy shadow falls
Between me and the light;
I gaze as on a shrine
My heart would bend before;
My couch had seen no rest,
Had I not seen thy door.
And makes thy casement bright,
And soft thy shadow falls
Between me and the light;
I gaze as on a shrine
My heart would bend before;
My couch had seen no rest,
Had I not seen thy door.
The Night, as if to breathe,
Her starry curtain parts;
The very air seems faint
With breath of lovers' hearts:
Some spirit robes the earth
In light that heaven wore;
Or is that light thine own?—
And is that heaven thy door?
Her starry curtain parts;
The very air seems faint
With breath of lovers' hearts:
19
In light that heaven wore;
Or is that light thine own?—
And is that heaven thy door?
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