Gilded and for ever haunted
By the far ethereal smiles—
Through the long bright time enchanted,
In those solitudes for miles,
I and She—at heart possessing
Rhapsodies of tender thought—
Wander, till our thoughts too pressing
Into new sweet words are wrought.
And at length, with full hearts sinking
Back to silence and the maze
Of immeasurable thinking,
In those inward forest ways,
We recline on mossy couches,
Vanquished by mysterious calms,
All beneath the soothing touches
Of the feather-leaved fan-palms.
Strangely, with a mighty hushing,
Falls the sudden hour of noon;
When the flowers droop with blushing,
And a deep miraculous swoon
Seems subduing the whole forest;
Or some distant joyous rite
Draws away each bright-hued chorist:
Then we yield with long delight
Each to each, our souls deep thirsting;
And no sound at all is nigh,
Save from time to time the bursting
Of some fire-fed fruit on high.
Then with sudden overshrouding
Of impenetrable wings,
Comes the darkness and the crowding
Mysteries of the unseen things.
O how happy are we lovers
In weak wanderings hand in hand!—
Whom the immense palm forest covers
In that strange enchanted land;
Whom its thousand sights stupendous
Hold in breathless charmed suspense;
Whom its hidden sounds tremendous
And its throbbing hues intense