The poems of Owen Meredith (Honble Robert Lytton.) Selected and revised by the author. Copyright edition. In two volumes |
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 | The poems of Owen Meredith (Honble Robert Lytton.) |  |
16
DESIRE.
The Night is come,—ah, not too soon!
I have waited her wearily all day long,
While the heart, now husht, of the feverish noon
In his burthen'd bosom was beating strong.
But the cool clear light of the quiet moon
Hath quench'd day's fever, and forth in song,
One by one, with a boyant flight,
Arise day's wishes releast by night.
I have waited her wearily all day long,
While the heart, now husht, of the feverish noon
In his burthen'd bosom was beating strong.
But the cool clear light of the quiet moon
Hath quench'd day's fever, and forth in song,
One by one, with a boyant flight,
Arise day's wishes releast by night.
The night is come! On the hills above
Her dusky hair she hath shaken free,
And her tender eyes are dim with love,
And her balmy bosom lies bare to me.
She hath loosen'd the shade of the cedar grove,
And shaken it over the long dark lea.
She hath kindled the glow-worm, and cradled the dove,
In the silent cypress tree.
Her dusky hair she hath shaken free,
And her tender eyes are dim with love,
And her balmy bosom lies bare to me.
She hath loosen'd the shade of the cedar grove,
And shaken it over the long dark lea.
She hath kindled the glow-worm, and cradled the dove,
In the silent cypress tree.
O Hesperus, bringer of all sweet things,
Hear me in heaven, and favour my call!
Bring me, O bring me, what naught else brings,
The one sweet thing that is sweeter than all.
Bring me unto her, or bring her to me,
Whose unseen eyes I have felt from afar.
I feel I am near her, but where is she?
I know I shall find her, but when shall it be?
O hasten it, Hesperus star!
Hear me in heaven, and favour my call!
Bring me, O bring me, what naught else brings,
The one sweet thing that is sweeter than all.
Bring me unto her, or bring her to me,
Whose unseen eyes I have felt from afar.
I feel I am near her, but where is she?
I know I shall find her, but when shall it be?
O hasten it, Hesperus star!
17
My heart, as a wind-thrill'd lyre,
Throbs audibly. Bright in the grove,
Like mine own thoughts taking fire,
The star-flies hover and rove.
Arise! go forth, keen-eyed, swift-wing'd Desire!
Thou art the Bird of Jove,
And strong to bear the thunders that destroy,
Or fetch the ravisht flute-playing Phrygian boy.
Go forth athwart the world, and find my love!—
Throbs audibly. Bright in the grove,
Like mine own thoughts taking fire,
The star-flies hover and rove.
Arise! go forth, keen-eyed, swift-wing'd Desire!
Thou art the Bird of Jove,
And strong to bear the thunders that destroy,
Or fetch the ravisht flute-playing Phrygian boy.
Go forth athwart the world, and find my love!—
| The poems of Owen Meredith (Honble Robert Lytton.) | |