Gie me the hour o' gloaming grey,
It maks my heart sae cheery O, To meet thee on the lea- rig,
My ain kind dearie, O!
OH, COME TO ME WHEN DAYLIGHT SETS.
Oh, come to me when daylight sets;
Sweet! then come to me,
When smoothly go our gondolets
O'er the moonlight sea.
When Mirth's awake, and love begins,
Beneath that glancing ray,
With sound of lutes and mandolins,
To steal young hearts away.
Then, come to me when daylight sets;
Sweet! then come to me,
When smoothly go our gondolets
O'er the moonlight sea.
Oh, then 's the hour for those who love,
Sweet! like thee and me;
When all 's so calm below, above,
In heav'n and o'er the sea.
When maidens sing sweet barcarolles
And Echo sings again
So sweet, that all with ears and souls
Should love and listen then.
So, come to me when daylight sets;
Sweet! then come to me,
When smoothly go our gondolets
O'er the moonlight sea.
The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed in the slushy sand.
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys aud fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!
I wander'd by the brook-side,
I wander'd by the mill,--
I could not hear the brook flow,
The noisy wheel was still;
There was no burr of grasshopper,
No chirp of any bird,
But the beating of my own heart
Was all the sound I heard.
.1 sat beside the elm-tree,
I watch'd the long, long shade,
And as it grew still longer,
I did not feel afraid;
For I listen'd for a footfall,
I listen'd for a word,—
But the beating of my own heart
Was all the sound I heard.
He came not,-no, he came not,-
The night came on alone,-
The little stars sat one by one,
Each on a golden throne;
The evening air past by my cheek,
The leaves above were stirr’d‚—-
But the beating of my own heart
Was all the sound I heard.
Fast silent tears were flowing,
When something stood behind,-
A hand was on my shoulder,
I knew its touch was kind:
It drew me nearer-nearer,
We did not speak one word,
For the beating of our own hearts
Was all the sound we heard.
O Love, Love, Love! O withering might!
O sun, that from thy noonday height
Shudderest when I strain my sight,
Throbbing thro' all thy heat and light,
Lo, falling from my constant mind,
Lo, parch'd and wither'd, deaf and blind,
I whirl like leaves in roaring wind.
Last night I wasted hateful hours
Below the city's eastern towers:
I thirsted for the brooks, the showers:
I rolled among the tender flowers:
I crush'd them on my breast, my mouth:
I look'd athwart the burning drouth
Of that long desert to the south.
Last night, when some one spoke his name,
From my swift blood that went and came
A thousand little shafts of flame
Were shiver'd in my narrow frame.
O Love, O fire, once he drew
With one long kiss my whole soul thro'
My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
Before he mounts the hill, I know
He cometh quickly: from below
Sweet gales, as from deep gardens, blow
Before him, striking on my brow.
In my dry brain my spirit soon,
Down-deepening from swoon to swoon,
Faints like a dazzled morning moon.
The wind sounds like a silver wire,
And from beyond the noon a fire
Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher
The skies stoop down in their desire;
And, isled in sudden seas of light,
My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight,
Bursts into blossom in his sight.
My whole soul waiting silently,
All naked in a sultry sky,
Droops blinded with his shining eye,
I will possess him or will die.
I will grow round him in his place,
Grow, live, die looking on his face,
Die, dying clasp'd in his embrace.
O kiss! which dost those ruddy gems impart,
Or gems, or fruits, of new-found Paradise:
Breathing all bliss and sweet'ning to the heart;
Teaching dumb lips a nobler exercise;
O kiss! which souls, ev'n souls, together ties
By links of love, and only Nature's art:
How fain would I paint thee to all men's eyes,
Or of thy gifts, at least, shade out some part!
But She forbids; with blushing words she says,
She builds her fame on higher-seated praise:
But my heart burns, I cannot silent be.
Then since, dear Life! you fain would have me peace,
And I, mad with delight, want wit to cease,
Stop you my mouth, with still, still kissing me.
THE KISS-A DIALOGUE.
1. Among thy fancies tell me this:
What is the thing we call a kiss?
2. I shall resolve ye what it is:
It is a creature born, and bred
Between the lips, all cherry red;
By love and warm desires fed;
CHOR. And makes more soft the bridal bed.
|