love

Am I waking, am I sleeping?
As the first faint dawn comes creeping
Thro' the pane, I am aware
Of an unseen presence hovering,
Round, above, in the dusky air:
A downy bird, with an odorous wing,
That fans my forehead, and sheds perfume,
As sweet as love, as soft as death,
Drowsy-slow through the summer-gloom.
My heart in some dream-rapture saith,
It is she. Half in a swoon,
I spread my arms in slow delight.--
O prolong, prolong the night,
For the nights are short in June!

Blessed was she that bare,
Hidden in flesh most fair,
For all men's sake the likeness of all love;
Holy that virgin's womb,
The old record saith, on whom
The glory of God alighted as a dove;
Blessed, who brought to gracious birth
The sweet-souled Saviour of a man-tormented earth.



But four times art thou blest,
At whose most holy breast
Four times a godlike soldier-saviour hung;
And thence a fourfold Christ
Given to be sacrificed

Roses red and roses white
Plucked I for my love's delight.
She would none of all my posies--
Bade me gather her blue roses.

Half the world I wandered through,
Seeking where such flowers grew.
Half the world unto my quest
Answered me with laugh and jest.

Home I came at wintertide,
But my silly love had died
Seeking with her latest breath
Roses from the arms of Death.

It may be beyond the grave
She shall find what she would have.
Mine was but an idle quest--

ICHOT a burde in boure bryht,
That fully semly is on syht,
Menskful maiden of myht;
   Feir ant fre to fonde;
In al this wurhliche won
A burde of blod ant of bon
Never yete y nuste non
   Lussomore in londe.
   Blou northerne wynd!
   Send thou me my suetyng!
   Blou northerne wynd! blou, blou, blou!

With lokkes lefliche ant longe,
With frount ant face feir to fonge,
With murthes monie mote heo monge,
   That brid so breme in boure.
With lossom eye grete ant gode,

Oh! Bury me in books when I am dead,
Fair quarto leaves of ivory and gold,
And silk octavos, bound in brown and red,
That tales of love and chivalry unfold.
Heap me in volumes of fine vellum wrought,
Creamed with the close content of silent speech;
Wrap me in sapphire tapestries of thought
From some old epic out of common reach.
I would my shroud were verse-embroidered too---
Your verse for preference—in starry stitch,
And powdered o’er with rhymes that poets woo,
Breathing dream-lyrics in moon-measures rich.

Once, methought, in the night hours cold,

That I saw the moon in my sleep;
But as soon as I waken'd, behold

Unawares rose the sun from the deep.

THAT Suleika's love was so strong

For Joseph, need cause no surprise;

He was young, youth pleaseth the eyes,--

He was fair, they say, beyond measure

Fair was she, and so great was their pleasure.
But that thou, who awaitedst me long,
Youthful glances of fire dost throw me,
Soon wilt bless me, thy love now dost show me,

With what inward joy, sweet lay,

I thy meaning have descried!
Lovingly thou seem'st to say

That I'm ever by his side;

That he ever thinks of me,

That he to the absent gives
All his love's sweet ecstasy,

While for him alone she lives.

Yes, the mirror which reveals

Thee, my loved one, is my breast;
This the bosom, where thy seals

Endless kisses have impress'd.

Numbers sweet, unsullied truth,

Chain me down in sympathy!
Love's embodied radiant youth,

Zephyr, for thy humid wing,

Oh, how much I envy thee!
Thou to him canst tidings bring

How our parting saddens me!

In my breast, a yearning still

As thy pinions wave, appears;
Flow'rs and eyes, and wood, and hill

At thy breath are steeped in tears.

Yet thy mild wing gives relief,

Soothes the aching eyelid's pain;
Ah, I else had died for grief,

Him ne'er hoped to see again.

To my love, then, quick repair,

Whisper softly to his heart;

The sun appears! A glorious sight!

The crescent-moon clings round him now.
What could this wondrous pair unite?

How to explain this riddle? How?

HATEM.

May this our joy's foreboder prove!

In it I view myself and thee;
Thou calmest me thy sun, my love,--

Come, my sweet moon, cling thou round me!

Love for love, and moments sweet,

Lips returning kiss for kiss,
Word for word, and eyes that meet;

Breath for breath, and bliss for bliss.
Thus at eve, and thus the morrow!

Yet thou feeblest, at my lay,
Ever some half-hidden sorrow;
Could I Joseph's graces borrow,

All thy beauty I'd repay!