TO-NIGHT the stars are wooing, love, The moon is full of languishment; Low in the eastern firmament Little, the golden waves above -- My dreams are wand'ring pensive-wise Unto the-bourne of echo-sighs Beneath the stars, within the grove. To-night the rose-leaves fell apart, And at their core the sweet dews dwell, While dreams of echo in the shell Conjures the crimson-scented heart. So, love, thy sweet influence steals Upon me, and my spirit heals, And dreams what loveliness thou art. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I COULD TAKE by HAYDEN CARRUTH ON MONSIEUR'S DEPARTURE by ELIZABETH I REMEMBERED MUSIC; A FRAGMENT by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL HE WROTE THE HISTORY BOOK,' IT SAID by MARIANNE MOORE THE MOTHER'S HEART by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON |