 | [Poems by Wilde in] Richard Henry Wilde |  |
194
STAR OF MY LOVE! I
Il y a parmi ces étoiles un amour eternel qui peut seul suffire à l'immensité de nos voeux.
De Stael
Star of my Love! how brightly burns
Thy mild, pure, tranquil flame, tonight,
Though thousands from their chrystal urns
Are pouring floods of silver light,
In thine alone I take delight,
For one who in my absence mourns
Gazes upon thee in thy flight
And every look I give returns
And therefore dost thou seem so bright
Star of my Love!
Thy mild, pure, tranquil flame, tonight,
Though thousands from their chrystal urns
Are pouring floods of silver light,
In thine alone I take delight,
For one who in my absence mourns
Gazes upon thee in thy flight
And every look I give returns
And therefore dost thou seem so bright
Star of my Love!
Star of my Love! while thus on high
The heavenly host their vigils keep
Careering through the dark blue sky,
And earth seems sunk in slumbers deep,
There yet are those who do not sleep
But gaze upon thee with a sigh,
And eyes that long, yet scorn to weep,
While gloomy clouds across thee fly
Like thoughts that o'er our fancies sweep
Star of my Love!
The heavenly host their vigils keep
Careering through the dark blue sky,
And earth seems sunk in slumbers deep,
There yet are those who do not sleep
But gaze upon thee with a sigh,
And eyes that long, yet scorn to weep,
While gloomy clouds across thee fly
Like thoughts that o'er our fancies sweep
Star of my Love!
Star of my Love! I see thee shine
Even now as when thou met'st the gaze
Of one, whose hand was clasped in mine
When last we saw thy glories blaze:
Then as we marked thy beauteous rays
With spirits soft and pure as thine
We asked thine aid in thorny ways
And bowed our hearts before thy shrine
With souls all gratitude and praise
Star of my Love!
Even now as when thou met'st the gaze
Of one, whose hand was clasped in mine
When last we saw thy glories blaze:
Then as we marked thy beauteous rays
With spirits soft and pure as thine
We asked thine aid in thorny ways
And bowed our hearts before thy shrine
With souls all gratitude and praise
Star of my Love!
| [Poems by Wilde in] Richard Henry Wilde | |