The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | ||
I.
O sisters, when last night so well you sleptI could not sleep; but through the silent air
I looked upon the white Moon, shining where
No scent of any Rose can reach, I know.
And as I looked, adown the path there crept
A little trembling, restless Wind, and lo!
As near it came, I said, “O little breeze,
That hast no strength wherewith to stir the trees,
What dost thou in this place?” It only sighed,
And paused a little ere it thus replied,—
The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | ||