TO-NIGHT the stars are wooing, love, The moon is full of languishment; Low in the eastern firmament Little, the golden waves above -- My dreams are wand'ring pensive-wise Unto the-bourne of echo-sighs Beneath the stars, within the grove. To-night the rose-leaves fell apart, And at their core the sweet dews dwell, While dreams of echo in the shell Conjures the crimson-scented heart. So, love, thy sweet influence steals Upon me, and my spirit heals, And dreams what loveliness thou art. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THREE SPRING NOTATIONS ON BIPEDS by CARL SANDBURG OH, SWEET CONTENT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES WHEN ALL IS DONE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR AMPHIPOLIS by ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA AUTUMN; WRITTEN IN THE GROUNDS OF MARTIN COLE, ESQ. by BERNARD BARTON A SUMMER IN TUSCANY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |