Sixty-Five Sonnets With Prefatory Remarks on the Accordance of the Sonnet with the Powers of the English Language: Also, A Few Miscellaneous Poems [by Thomas Doubleday] |
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42
XVI.
The stars are wandering o'er the fields of blue,While earth drinks freely of the cup of sleep;—
But I have drain'd love's magic draught so deep,
That sleep's is tasteless.—Emma haste;—each hue
Is deepen'd, but not lost; these trees ne'er threw
A stiller shade; no rude breeze dares to sweep
Breathings from flowers which fragrant slumbers steep.
—But, list!—more balmy than the odorous dew,
Prelusive music of my queen's approach,
Of promises of chasten'd raptures full,
How soft the whispering voice and footsteps light
On the awed silence silverly encroach:—
The young enchantress comes, as wont, to cull
Pleasure's pure flowers, of mystic power, by night.
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