 | My Lyrical Life |  |
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SWEET SPIRIT OF MY LOVE.
Sweet Spirit of my love!
Through all the world we walk apart:
Thou mayst not in my bosom lie;
I may not press Thee to my heart
Nor see the love-thoughts light thine eye:
Yet art Thou with me. All my life
Orbs out in thy warm beauty's sphere;
My loftiest dreams of Thee are rife,
And coloured with thy presence dear.
Through all the world we walk apart:
Thou mayst not in my bosom lie;
I may not press Thee to my heart
Nor see the love-thoughts light thine eye:
Yet art Thou with me. All my life
Orbs out in thy warm beauty's sphere;
My loftiest dreams of Thee are rife,
And coloured with thy presence dear.
Sweet Spirit of my love!
I know how beautiful Thou art,
But never tell the starry thought:
I only whisper to my heart,
“She lights with heaven thy earthliest spot.”
And birds that night and day rejoice,
And winds and waves give back to me
Their music murmuring of thy voice;
And warble into songs of Thee.
I know how beautiful Thou art,
But never tell the starry thought:
I only whisper to my heart,
“She lights with heaven thy earthliest spot.”
And birds that night and day rejoice,
And winds and waves give back to me
Their music murmuring of thy voice;
And warble into songs of Thee.
Sweet Spirit of my love!
No Spring, or Summer bloom-bedight,
That garlands earth with rainbow-showers;
No breath of Morn, or eyes that Light
Doth open in the waking flowers;
No Bee goes honey-laden by,
No flash of water, sigh of tree;
Never a New Moon mounts the sky
But draws my heart's love-tide to Thee!
No Spring, or Summer bloom-bedight,
That garlands earth with rainbow-showers;
No breath of Morn, or eyes that Light
Doth open in the waking flowers;
No Bee goes honey-laden by,
No flash of water, sigh of tree;
Never a New Moon mounts the sky
But draws my heart's love-tide to Thee!
183
Sweet Spirit of my love!
When Night's soft silence clothes the earth,
To wake the passionate bird of love,
And Stars laugh out in lofty mirth,
And yearning souls divinelier move;
When Stillness hallows every spot,
And, lapped in feeling's luxury,
The heart's break-full of tender thought;
Then art Thou with me, still with me.
When Night's soft silence clothes the earth,
To wake the passionate bird of love,
And Stars laugh out in lofty mirth,
And yearning souls divinelier move;
When Stillness hallows every spot,
And, lapped in feeling's luxury,
The heart's break-full of tender thought;
Then art Thou with me, still with me.
Sweet Spirit of my love!
I listen for thy footfall, feel
Thy look is burning on me, such
As reads my heart; 'twill sometimes reel
And throb, expectant for thy touch!
For by the voice of birds and brooks,
And flowers with dews of heaven wet,
And earnest stars with yearning looks,
I know that we shall mingle yet.
I listen for thy footfall, feel
Thy look is burning on me, such
As reads my heart; 'twill sometimes reel
And throb, expectant for thy touch!
For by the voice of birds and brooks,
And flowers with dews of heaven wet,
And earnest stars with yearning looks,
I know that we shall mingle yet.
Sweet Spirit of my love!
Strange places on me smile, as Thou
Hadst passed, and left thy beauty's tints:
Even the wild flowers seem to know,
And light and shade flash mystic hints.
Methinks, like olden Gods, Thou'lt come
In cloud; but mine anointed eyes
Shall see the glory burn through gloom,
And clasp Thee, Sweet! with large surprise.
Strange places on me smile, as Thou
Hadst passed, and left thy beauty's tints:
Even the wild flowers seem to know,
And light and shade flash mystic hints.
Methinks, like olden Gods, Thou'lt come
In cloud; but mine anointed eyes
Shall see the glory burn through gloom,
And clasp Thee, Sweet! with large surprise.
| My Lyrical Life | |