| |
| THE RISING moon has hid the stars; | |
| Her level rays, like golden bars, | |
| Lie on the landscape green, | |
| With shadows brown between. | |
| |
| And silver white the river gleams, | 5 |
| As if Diana, in her dreams | |
| Had dropt her silver bow | |
| Upon the meadows low. | |
| |
| On such a tranquil night as this, | |
| She woke Endymion with a kiss, | 10 |
| When, sleeping in the grove, | |
| He dreamed not of her love. | |
| |
| Like Dian’s kiss, unasked, unsought, | |
| Love gives itself, but is not bought; | |
| Nor voice, nor sound betrays | 15 |
| Its deep, impassioned gaze. | |
| |
| It comes,—the beautiful, the free, | |
| The crown of all humanity,— | |
| In silence and alone | |
| To seek the elected one. | 20 |
| |
| It lifts the boughs, whose shadows deep | |
| Are Life’s oblivion, the soul’s sleep, | |
| And kisses the closed eyes | |
| Of him who slumbering lies. | |
| |
| O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes! | 25 |
| O drooping souls, whose destinies | |
| Are fraught with fear and pain, | |
| Ye shall be loved again! | |
| |
| No one is so accursed by fate, | |
| No one so utterly desolate, | 30 |
| But some heart, though unknown, | |
| Responds unto his own. | |
| |
| Responds,—as if with unseen wings, | |
| An angel touched its quivering strings; | |
| And whispers, in its song, | 35 |
| “Where hast thou stayed so long?” | |
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