They knew thou wert a queen, my royal bride!
And made obeisance at thy holy side.
They saw thee, Agathe! and go to bring
Fair worshippers, and many a poet-king,
To utter music at thy pearly feet.--
Now, wake thee! for the moonlight cometh sweet,
To visit in thy temple of the sea;
Thy sister moon is watching over thee!
And she is spreading a fair mantle of
Pure silver, in thy lonely palace, love!--
Now, wake thee! for the sea-bird is aloof,
In solitude, below the starry roof;
And on its dewy plume there is a light
Of palest splendour, o'er the blessed night.
Thy spirit, Agathe!--and yet, thou art
Beside me, and my solitary heart
Is throbbing near to thee: I must not feel
The sweet notes of thy holy music steal
Into my feverous and burning brain,--
So wake not! and I'll hush thee with a strain
Of my wild fancy, till thou dream of me,
And I be loved as I have loved thee:--
SONG
'Tis light to love thee living, girl, when hope is full and fair,
In the springtide of thy beauty, when there is no sorrow there--
No sorrow on thy brow, and no shadow on thy heart!
When, like a floating sea-bird, bright and beautiful thou art!
'Tis light to love thee living, girl--to see thee ever so,
With health, that, like a crimson flower, lies blushing in the snow;
And thy tresses falling over, like the amber on the pearl--
Oh! true it is a lightsome thing, to love thee living, girl!
But when the brow is blighted, like a star of morning tide,
And faded is the crimson blush upon the cheek beside;
It is to love, as seldom love, the brightest and the best,
When our love lies like a dew upon the one that is at rest.
Pages:
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43