Then sings | The bird
His song, | Of our song
Beating strong | May be long
White wings,-- | Unheard,
|
Heart clear | But, Dear,
Though faint, | Bend low;
Like a saint | It is now
In prayer.-- | We hear.
|
He reigns | Dear Heart
In power, | Your kiss!--
And Love's hour | After this
Disdains. | We part.
|
Forget | A breath
For a day | And a sigh,--
All his sway, | How we fly
Life's fret. | From Death!




NOON.


No ripple stirs the water,
No song-bird wakes the grove,
Calm noon-tide sways his sceptre,
And hushes even love.