Whispers and the timid breathing,
Nightingale's long trill,
Silver moonlight and the rocking
Of the dreaming rill;
Nightly light and nightly shadow,
Shadow's endless lace—
Neath the moon's enchanted changes
The Beloved's face.
Blinking stars as flash of amber,
Snowy clouds on-rush,
Tears and happiness and kisses—
And the dawn's red blush!
FROM "FÊTE CHENCHINE."
Fête Chenchine, so-called, has no rival in impressionistic effects. The above without a verb is a good instance of his peculiar caprice.
THE TALES OF THE STARS
The stars of beauty, the stars of purity,
Have whispered their wonderful tales to the flowers!
The satiny petals have smiled as they heard,
And trembled the emerald leaves 'mid their bowers.
But infatuate flowers deep drunken of dew
Repeated these tales to the light swaying breeze—
Rebellious winds listening swift caught them up
And sang them o'er earth, o'er the mountains and seas!
Now, as the earth under Springtime's caresses:
With her verdant tissue is covered once more,
All my madly passionate soul overflows
With dreams of the stars and their radiant lore!
And throughout these days of my sorrow and toil,
Through these nights of my loneliness, darkness and rain—
Stars wondrous and radiant, I give back to you,
Your ethereal fancies again!
FOFANOW.
ONE DEAREST PAIR OF EYES I LOVE
One dearest pair of eyes I love!
Entranced my heart beneath their spell—
Clearer than clearest ray they are,
But where they are—I will not tell!
Through silk of wondrous lashes soft,
Their burning beams are flashing bright,
Upon my knees, a slave I kneel—
Before those miracles of light.
The storm is growing in my soul,
Tempest of pain and happiness—
I love one dearest pair of eyes,
But whose they are—I'll not confess!