I'LL ask the sylph who round thee flies, And in thy breath his pinion dips, Who suns him in thy lucent eyes, And faints upon thy sighing lips: I'll ask him where's the veil of sleep That used to shade thy looks of light; And why those eyes their vigil keep, When other suns are sunk in night. And I will say -- her angel breast Has never throbb'd with guilty sting; Her bosom is the sweetest nest Where Slumber could repose his wing! And I will say -- her cheeks of flame, Which glow like roses in the sun, Have never felt a blush of shame, Except for what her eyes have done! Then tell me, why, thou child of air! Does slumber from her eyelids rove? What is her heart's impassion'd care? -- Perhaps, O sylph! perhaps 'tis @3love!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BOTTOM DRAWER by AMELIA EDITH HUDDLESTON BARR THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 45. FAREWELL TO JULIET (7) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE COMING OF PHOEBE by JOHN BURROUGHS THE HILLS OF OLD VERMONT by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY |