 | Poems Lyrical and Dramatic |  |
157
TO A PICTURE.
Sweet face like starlight's slumb'rous haze
Soft sleeping on some sobbing lake,
Sinks on my soul thy nestling gaze
Like swoon, or snow, which flake on flake
Descends where glowed but late the virgin rose,
And locks her gold-brown leaves undreaming in repose.
Soft sleeping on some sobbing lake,
Sinks on my soul thy nestling gaze
Like swoon, or snow, which flake on flake
Descends where glowed but late the virgin rose,
And locks her gold-brown leaves undreaming in repose.
As odours in the sultry noon
From heath-bloom where the wild bee gloats,
As sounds of their own sweetness swoon,
Whose wings o'erweighed with honeyed notes
Within the breast of downy silence glide
And in her petals warm their precious burden hide:
From heath-bloom where the wild bee gloats,
As sounds of their own sweetness swoon,
Whose wings o'erweighed with honeyed notes
Within the breast of downy silence glide
And in her petals warm their precious burden hide:
So seems thy languorous soul to fail
In light intense of those deep eyes,
Dreaming to death like evening gale
Or wave that all its being sighs
Forth to the winds upon some distant shore
Of silver-girdled isles where grief may be no more.
In light intense of those deep eyes,
158
Or wave that all its being sighs
Forth to the winds upon some distant shore
Of silver-girdled isles where grief may be no more.
As lures each star the nightingale,
Till overthrongs their myriad swarm
The hive of heaven, ere sunset pale
Subsides from day's caresses warm:
As mellow peaches tempt the starling nigh,
Or honey-suckle flowers the peacock-butterfly:
Till overthrongs their myriad swarm
The hive of heaven, ere sunset pale
Subsides from day's caresses warm:
As mellow peaches tempt the starling nigh,
Or honey-suckle flowers the peacock-butterfly:
As fresher pastures far entice
Upon green slope or daisied lawn
The browsing flock; or that sweet spice
Bright birds of Eden oft hath drawn
To taste the luscious fruit that poisoneth:
So draw me on encharmed and fed by thee with death.
Upon green slope or daisied lawn
The browsing flock; or that sweet spice
Bright birds of Eden oft hath drawn
To taste the luscious fruit that poisoneth:
So draw me on encharmed and fed by thee with death.
| Poems Lyrical and Dramatic | |