Classic Poem

I
Hush, hush! tread softly! hush, hush my dear!
All the house is asleep, but we know very well
That the jealous, the jealous old bald-pate may hear,
Though you've padded his night-cap — O sweet Isabel!
Though your feet are more light than a faery's feet,
Who dances on bubbles where brooklets meet —
Hush, hush! tread softly! hush, hush my dear!
For less than a nothing the jealous can hear.

II
No leaf doth tremble, no ripple is there
On the river — all's still, and the night's sleepy eye
Closes up, and forgets all its Lethean care,
Charmed to death by the drone of the humming mayfly;
And the moon, whether prudish or complaisant,
Hath fled to her bower, well knowing I want
No light in the darkness, no torch in the gloom,
But my Isabel's eyes, and her lips pulped with bloom.

III
Lift the latch! ah gently! ah tenderly — sweet!
We are dead if that latchet gives one little clink!
Well done — now those lips, and a flowery seat —
The old man may dream, and the planets may wink;
The shut rose may dream of our loves, and awake
Full-blown, and such warmth for the morning take,
The stock-dove shall hatch her soft brace and shall coo,
While I kiss to the melody, aching all through!