There's not a wind but whispers of thy name; And not a flow'r that grows beneath the moon, But in its hues and fragrance tells a tale Of thee, my love.
Thy Hues Beneath
Death is the tyrant of the imagination.
O human beauty, what a dream art thou, that we should cast our life and hopes away on thee!
All round the room my silent servants wait, My friends in every season, bright and dim.
Even Echo speaks not on these radiant moors.
So mightiest powers buy deepest calms are fed, And sleep, how oft, in things that gentlest be!
Calms Buy Deepest
Oh, the summer night, Has a smile of light, And she sits on a sapphire throne.
Smile Throne Oh
The sweetest noise on earth, a woman's tongue; A string which hath no discord.
Half the ills we heard within our hearts are ills because we hoard them.
Ills Heard Our
I never was on the dull, tame shore, But I loved the great sea more and more.
Loved Shore I
Pity speaks to grief More sweetly than a band of instruments.
Touch us gently, Time! Let us glide adown thy stream, Gently, - as we sometimes glide Through a quiet dream!
Thy Quiet Us