VII.
AT AMALFI
Come to the window, you who are mine.
Waken! the night is calling.
Sit by me here—with the moon's fair shine
Into your deep eyes falling.
The sea afar is a fearful gloom;
Lean from the casement, listen!
Anear, it breaks with a faery spume,
Spraying the moon-path's glisten.
The little white town below lies deep
As eternity in slumber.
O, you who are mine, how a glance can reap
Beauties beyond all number!
"Amalfi!" say it—as the stars set
O'er yon far promontory.
"Amalfi!" ... Shall we ever forget
Even Above this glory?
No; as twin sails at anchor ride,
Our spirits rock together
On a sea of love—lit as this tide
With tenderest star-weather!
And the quick ecstasy within
Your breast is against me beating.
Amalfi!... Never a night shall win
From God again such fleeting.
Ah—but the dawn is redd'ning up
Over the moon low-dying.
Come, come away—we have drunk the cup:
Ours is the dream undying!