FLY, swiftly fly Through yon fair sky, O purple-pinioned Hours! And bring once more the balmy night, When from her lattice, silvery bright, Love's beacon-star -- her taper -- shines Between those dark manorial pines, Above the myrtle-bowers. Fly, breezes, fly, And waft my sigh With love's warm fondness fraught, 'Twill stir my lady's languid mood, Where, in her verdurous solitude, She sits and thinks, a moonlight grace Cast o'er her beauteous brow and face, Touched by a passionate thought! Glide, rivulet, glide With whispering tide, Through coverts low and deep, To woo her with the airy call, The music faint, the far-off fall, Of fairy streams in fairy climes, Or pleasant lapse of fairy rhymes, Soft as her breath in sleep. Fly, swiftly fly Through yon calm sky, O gentle-hearted dove! And pausing on her favorite tree, Murmur your plaint so tenderly, That, born of that sweet tone, a charm Her very heart of hearts may warm With rosy bliss of love. Fly, swiftly fly Through yon fair sky, O purple-pinioned Hours! And bring once more the balmy night, When from her lattice, silvery bright, Love's beacon-star -- her taper -- shines Between those dark manorial pines Above the myrtle-bowers! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SWAN AND THE GOOSE by AESOP HOHENLINDEN by THOMAS CAMPBELL HOW VIOLETS CAME BLUE by ROBERT HERRICK ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER by JOHN MILTON I HEARD YOUR SOLEMN-SWEET PIPES by WALT WHITMAN A LAY OF ST. DUNSTAN by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |