I see thee, moon, in thy high heavenly garden; Thou walkest like a maid among her flowers. But thou art not more beautiful, I ween, Than she who gave herself to me to-night Within an earthly garden.--Perhaps she sleeps. O elves unseen, and far away from me, Who dance upon the shore; and fairies, who Enamel green hill-tops with little rings Where merry balls are held; and all ye sylphs Inhabiting dark shades and rustling bowers; Ye naiads who make silver streams your haunts, And ye aerial ones who chant high songs Against the twinkling of the lyric stars: From distant vales and hills of Greece o'erskip The intervening countries at a bound Ye ancient deities--if ye be dead, Let your ghosts rise from flowery sepulchres, Or coral tombs beneath the blue Aegean: Ye little dwarfs and legendary people In forest black, or by the oft-sung Rhine, Or in the moonless caves of furthest Thule, Desert your homes to-night: and all together, Quaint, lovely, beauteous, delicate, and droll, Troop to my lady's chamber: be her dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHILD AND HER STATUE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER WORK WITHOUT HOPE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE GIRL'S LAMENTATION by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 64. AL-KAIYUM by EDWIN ARNOLD A SONG OF APPLE-GATHERING by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |