Part 65

Awake! the dawn is on the hills! Behold, at her cool throat a rose, Blue-eyed and beautiful she goes, Leaving her steps in daffodils. - Awake! arise! and let me see Thine eyes, whose deeps epitomize All dawns that were or are to be, O love, all Heaven in thine eyes! - Awake! arise! come down to me!

Behold! the dawn is up: behold! How all the birds around her float, Wild rills of music, note on note, Spilling the air with mellow gold. - Arise! awake! and, drawing near, Let me but hear thee and rejoice! Thou, who keep'st captive, sweet and clear, All song, O love, within thy voice! Arise! awake! and let me hear!

See, where she comes, with limbs of day, The dawn! with wild-rose hands and feet, Within whose veins the sunbeams beat, And laughters meet of wind and ray. Arise! come down! and, heart to heart, Love, let me clasp in thee all these - The sunbeam, of which thou art part, And all the rapture of the breeze! - Arise! come down! loved that thou art!

Madison Cawein [1865-1914]

SERENADE

Softly, O midnight Hours! Move softly o'er the bowers Where lies in happy sleep a girl so fair! For ye have power, men say, Our hearts in sleep to sway, And cage cold fancies in a moonlight snare. Round ivory neck and arm Enclasp a separate charm; Hang o'er her poised, but breathe nor sigh nor prayer: Silently ye may smile, But hold your breath the while, And let the wind sweep back your cloudy hair!

Bend down your glittering urns, Ere yet the dawn returns, And star with dew the lawn her feet shall tread; Upon the air rain balm, Bid all the woods be calm, Ambrosial dreams with healthful slumbers wed; That so the Maiden may With smiles your care repay, When from her couch she lifts her golden head; Waking with earliest birds, Ere yet the misty herds Leave warm 'mid the gray grass their dusky bed.

Aubrey Thomas De Vere [1814-1902]

LINES TO AN INDIAN AIR

I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright. I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me - who knows how? To thy chamber window, sweet!

The wandering airs they faint On the dark, the silent stream; The champak odors fail Like sweet thoughts in a dream; The nightingale's complaint, It dies upon her heart, As I must die on thine, O beloved as thou art!

O lift me from the grass! I die, I faint, I fail! Let thy love in kisses rain On my lips and eyelids pale. My cheek is cold and white, alas! My heart beats loud and fast; Oh! press it close to thine again, Where it must break at last.

Percy Bysshe Shelley [1792-1822]

GOOD-NIGHT

Good-night? ah! no; the hour is ill Which severs those it should unite; Let us remain together still, Then it will be good night.

How can I call the lone night good, Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight? Be it not said, thought, understood, Then it will be good night.

To hearts which near each other move From evening close to morning light, The night is good; because, my love, They never say good-night.

Percy Bysshe Shelley [1792-1822]

SERENADE From "Sylvia"

Awake thee, my lady-love, Wake thee and rise! The sun through the bower peeps Into thine eyes!

Behold how the early lark Springs from the corn! Hark, hark how the flower-bird Winds her wee horn!

The swallow's glad shriek is heard All through the air; The stock-dove is murmuring Loud as she dare!

Apollo's winged bugleman Cannot contain, But peals his loud trumpet-call Once and again!

Then wake thee, my lady-love - Bird of my bower! The sweetest and sleepiest Bird at this hour!

George Darley [1795-1846]

SERENADE

Ah, sweet, thou little knowest how I wake and passionate watches keep; And yet, while I address thee now, Methinks thou smilest in thy sleep. 'Tis sweet enough to make me weep, That tender thought of love and thee, That while the world is hushed so deep, Thy soul's perhaps awake to me!

Sleep on, sleep on, sweet bride of sleep! With golden visions for thy dower, While I this midnight vigil keep, And bless thee in thy silent bower; To me 'tis sweeter than the power Of sleep, and fairy dreams unfurled, That I alone, at this still hour, In patient love outwatch the world.