 | A Selection from Unpublished Poems |  |
23
A NIGHT SONG, No. 2.
Be it midnight, be it dawning,
Do the clouds hold up, or weep;
Be it moonlight, be it sunshine,
Is no care to folk asleep.
So I linger not to tell you
How the midnight moon may soar;
But if one thing be your business,
'Tis that love is at the door.
Do the clouds hold up, or weep;
Be it moonlight, be it sunshine,
Is no care to folk asleep.
So I linger not to tell you
How the midnight moon may soar;
But if one thing be your business,
'Tis that love is at the door.
Whether leafy is the chestnut,
Or its chilly twigs be bare;
Whether dewy, whether frosty
Be the grass, is not your care.
So forget until the morning,
Land below, and sky above;
But it should be worth your knowing,
That before your gate is love.
Or its chilly twigs be bare;
Whether dewy, whether frosty
Be the grass, is not your care.
So forget until the morning,
Land below, and sky above;
But it should be worth your knowing,
That before your gate is love.
Oh! how softly in our slumbers
Do we oft, unwitting, glide
From the day's end to the morrow,
Over midnight's gloomy tide.
So may every day that opens,
Bring to you its one joy more,
Till you live in peace and honour,
Blest with love within my door.
Do we oft, unwitting, glide
From the day's end to the morrow,
Over midnight's gloomy tide.
So may every day that opens,
Bring to you its one joy more,
Till you live in peace and honour,
Blest with love within my door.
24
Like a birdling, say the people,
Is young Love, that fain would roam,
Ever lively in his freedom,
But will die confined at home.
No. I feel that you will never
Find the love at my heart's core,
Flying, faithless, out of window
Though stern want should come to door.
Is young Love, that fain would roam,
Ever lively in his freedom,
But will die confined at home.
No. I feel that you will never
Find the love at my heart's core,
Flying, faithless, out of window
Though stern want should come to door.
| A Selection from Unpublished Poems | |