Surely no cheating dream, nor sightless depth of sleep Will close her sense to music wrought for her delight; Bid her come forth, like Cynthia, into the night; Tell her, my flute, that here I sit alone and weep.
Fill the green orchard paths with music wrought of tears, With kisses hot, with love my lips have left unshed, Stretch hands for me through all this darkness to her bed, Touch her soft hair, and breathe my message in her ears.
Lo! I have gifts for thee, gifts from Amyclae brought, Shoes for the feet I love, and shawls of scarlet wool, Come, my beloved! we shall sit beside the pool And watch within its glass the heavens star-inwrought.
Sleep hath thy mother lapped in heavy shrouds of peace; Steal forth on silent feet, mine arms leap out for thee.... Shy as the moon she comes and bends her face to me, Heavy with love to give my heart from love release.
LARK AND NIGHTINGALE
When light wells up from her secret springs And the stars are quenched in a purer fire, From the blue of the heavens a blithe bird sings Of the day's delight and the earth's desire. Heart of my being, reply, reply! So Love singeth Out of the deep of a dawning sky, A little moment is all he bringeth.
When silver rays into shadows swoon, A bird sings out of the calm of night To the wandering sail of the wasted moon And the stars that jewel the skies with light. Heart of my being, rejoice, rejoice! Night hath given To all thy yearnings one faultless voice, A prayer to trouble the peace of heaven.