I WILL be happy if but for once: Only help me, Autumn weather, Me and my cares to screen, ensconce In luxury's sofa-lap of leather! Sleep? Nay, comfort -- with just a cloud Suffusing day too clear and bright: Eve's essence, the single drop allowed To sully, like milk, Noon's water-white. Let gauziness shade, not shroud, -- adjust, Dim and not deaden, -- somehow sheathe Aught sharp in the rough world's busy thrust, If it reach me through dreaming's vapor-wreath. Be life so, all things ever the same! For, what has disarmed the world? Outside, Quiet and peace: inside, nor blame Nor want, nor wish whate'er betide. What is it like that has happened before? A dream? No dream, more real by much. A vision? But fanciful days of yore Brought many: mere musing seems not such. Perhaps but a memory, after all! -- Of what came once when a woman leant To feel for my brow where her kiss might fall. Truth ever, truth only the excellent! |