The cherry trees perfume the evening air,
And gaunt and cold the ruined house stands near.

The aspens whisper to the passing breeze.
I hear the night-hawk's scream, the pipe of frogs,
The baying of the distant village dogs,
The lapping waves, the rustle of the trees.
And every sound is musical to me,
For every sound is a sweet song of thee.




_IN ABSENCE._


Sleep, dearest, sleep beside the murmuring sea;
Sleep, dearest, sleep, and bright dreams compass thee.
My sleepless thoughts a guard of love shall be
Around thy couch and bid thee dream of me.
Sleep, Bright Eyes, sleep.

Sleep, dearest, sleep, the slumber of the pure;
Sleep, dearest, sleep, in angels' care secure.
Evil itself thy beauty would allure
To cease from ill and make thy joyance sure.
Sleep, Bright Eyes, sleep.

Sleep, dearest, sleep; in slumber thou art mine;
Sleep, dearest, sleep; our souls still intertwine.