WILD with passion, sorrow-beladen, Bend the thought of thy stormy soul On its home, on its heaven, the loved maiden; And peace shall come at her eyes, control. Even so night's starry rest possesses With its gentle spirit these tamed waters, And bids the wave, with weedy tresses Embower the ocean's pavement stilly Where the sea-girls lie, the mermaid daughters, Whose eyes not born to weep, More palely-lidded sleep, Than in our fields the lily; And sighing in their rest More sweet than is its breath; And quiet as its death Upon a lady's breast. Heart high beating, triumph-bewreathed, Search the record of loves gone by, And borrow the blessings by them bequeathed To deal from out of thy victory's sky. Even so, throughout the midnight deep, The silent moon doth seek the bosoms Of those dear mermaid-girls asleep, To feed its dying rays anew, Like to the bee on earthly blossoms, Upon their silvery whiteness, And on the rainbow brightness Of their eyelashes' dew, And kisseth their limbs o'er: Her lips where they do quaff Strike starry tremors off, As from the waves our oar. |