A while let me with thought have done.
And as this brimmed unwrinkled Rhine,
And that far purple mountain line,
Lie sweetly in the look divine
Of the slow-sinking sun;
So let me lie, and, calm as they,
Let beam upon my inward view
Those eyes of deep, soft, lucent hue,—
Eyes too expressive to be blue,
Too lovely to be gray.
Ah, quiet, all things feel thy balm!
Those blue hills too, this river’s flow,
Were restless once, but long ago.
Tamed is their turbulent youthful glow;
Their joy is in their calm.
[V. LONGING.]
Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For then the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.
Come, as thou cam’st a thousand times,
A messenger from radiant climes,
And smile on thy new world, and be
As kind to others as to me!
Or, as thou never cam’st in sooth,
Come now, and let me dream it truth;
And part my hair, and kiss my brow,
And say, My love! why sufferest thou?
Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For then the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.