 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
I.
Come to me in a dream, O Love of mine!
Come to me, Sweetest, from thy far-off place,—
Stand close and lean above me thy fair face:
Within my fingers let thy fingers twine,
And kiss mine eye-lids till they quiver and shine
With passionate joy, and all sleep's mystic ways
Are lighted with the bright propitious rays
That beam from Love's own moon, — Love's star divine.
Come to me, Sweetest, from thy far-off place,—
Stand close and lean above me thy fair face:
Within my fingers let thy fingers twine,
And kiss mine eye-lids till they quiver and shine
With passionate joy, and all sleep's mystic ways
Are lighted with the bright propitious rays
That beam from Love's own moon, — Love's star divine.
O Love, for God's love, and for love of love,
Send forth thy soul across the weary way,
And find me, where through sleep I blindly rove,
Seeking my buried treasure, — ah, but stay
Here at my side till I have felt again
The jubilant blood exult in every vein!
Send forth thy soul across the weary way,
And find me, where through sleep I blindly rove,
Seeking my buried treasure, — ah, but stay
Here at my side till I have felt again
The jubilant blood exult in every vein!
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |