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227
ÆGRI SOMNIA.
Last night, in sad and troubled dreams,
Again thy spirit crossed my sleep—
That strange, unquiet slumber seems
No other form to keep.
Again thy spirit crossed my sleep—
That strange, unquiet slumber seems
No other form to keep.
Methought I wandered forth once more,
Beneath the dying moon's pale face,
And stood, as I have stood before,
At the old trysting-place.
Beneath the dying moon's pale face,
And stood, as I have stood before,
At the old trysting-place.
Long watching—but thou cam'st at last,
No longer proud—no longer cold—
And those dear arms were round me cast,
As kindly as of old.
No longer proud—no longer cold—
And those dear arms were round me cast,
As kindly as of old.
And that dear lip sought gently mine,
In mild and tender accents breaking—
Ah, [OMITTED]! if that dream divine
Had never known a waking!
In mild and tender accents breaking—
Ah, [OMITTED]! if that dream divine
Had never known a waking!
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