WITH stars, with trailing galaxies, Like a White-rose bower in bloom, Darkness garlands the vaulted skies, Day's ethereal tomb; A whisper without from the briny west Thrills and sweetens the gloom; Within, Miranda seeks her rest High in her turret-room. Armies upon her walls encamp In silk and silver thread; Chased and fretted, her silver lamp Dimly lights her bed; And now the silken screen is drawn, The velvet coverlet spread; And the pillow of down and snowy lawn Mantles about her head. With violet-scented rain Sprinkle the rushy floor; Let the tapestry hide the tinted pane, And cover the chamber door; But leave a glimmering beam, Miranda belamour, To touch and gild my waking dream, For I am your troubadour. I Sound my throbbing lyre, And sing to myself below; Her damsel sits beside the fire Crooning a song I know; The tapestry shakes on the wall, The shadows hurry and go, The silent flames leap up and fall, And the muttering birch-logs glow. Deep and sweet she sleeps, Because of her love for me; And deep and sweet the peace that keeps My happy heart in fee! Peace on the heights, in the deeps, Peace over hill and lea, Peace through the star-lit steeps, Peace on the starlit sea, Because a simple maiden sleeps Dreaming a dream of me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FROM THE SHORE by CARL SANDBURG A MOMENT by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE LINES WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM AT ELBINGERODE, IN HARTZ FOREST by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE A COMPARISON by WILLIAM COWPER THE BOBBIN-WINDER by JOSEPHINE ELIZABETH ARCHER A NIGHT FANCY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE ON LEAVING NEWSTEAD ABBEY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TO A LADY, ON BEING ASKED MY REASON FOR QUITTING ENGLAND by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |