On Viol and Flute By Edmund W. Gosse |
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ILLICET. |
 | On Viol and Flute |  |
137
ILLICET.
When first the rose-light creeps into my room,
And stirs the liquid gloom,
My heart awakes, and sighs with its old pain,
Its ringing pulses jar with their old strain,
And Love, my lord and bane,
Renews that wild desire that is my doom.
And stirs the liquid gloom,
My heart awakes, and sighs with its old pain,
Its ringing pulses jar with their old strain,
And Love, my lord and bane,
Renews that wild desire that is my doom.
To free myself from him, I rise and go,
Down terrace-paths below,
Whence watered gardens lead by winding ways
To that green haunt and bay-environed maze,
Where, in these summer days,
She early walks whose soul attracts me so.
Down terrace-paths below,
Whence watered gardens lead by winding ways
To that green haunt and bay-environed maze,
Where, in these summer days,
She early walks whose soul attracts me so.
Fool and forgetful! Shall I cool desire
By looking at those lovely eyes of hers,
That passionate Love prefers
To his own brand for setting hearts on fire?
O fool! to dream that what began my pain
Could end it! Rather, noiseless, let me fly
Out of her world, and die,
Where hopeless longing knows that all is vain.
By looking at those lovely eyes of hers,
That passionate Love prefers
To his own brand for setting hearts on fire?
138
Could end it! Rather, noiseless, let me fly
Out of her world, and die,
Where hopeless longing knows that all is vain.
| On Viol and Flute | |