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, 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, 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 Its deep, impassioned gaze. It comes, -- the beautiful, the free, The crown of all humanity, -- In silence and alone To seek the elected one. 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! 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, 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, "Where hast thou stayed so long?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: KING COPHETUA AND THE BEGGAR MAID by EDITH SITWELL SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 18 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE HILL WIFE: THE OFT-REPEATED DREAM by ROBERT FROST THE BARTHOLDI STATUE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER FRAGMENTS OF A POEM ON THE EXCELLENCE OF CHRISTIANITY by JAMES HAY BEATTIE THE ARTIST PHILOSOPHER by DAISY MAUD BELLIS THE FOUR ZOAS: NIGHTS THE SEVENTH AND EIGHTH by WILLIAM BLAKE |