Slanting both hands against her forehead, On me she levelled her bright eyes; My whole heart brightened as the sea When midnight clouds part suddenly; Through all my spirit went the lustre Like starlight poured through purple skies. And then she sang aloud, sweet music, Yet louder as aloft it clomb; Soft when her curving lips it left; Then rising till the heavens were cleft, As though each strain, on high expanding, Were echoes in a silver dome. But ah! she sings she does not love me; She loves to say she ne'er can love; To me her beauty she denies, Bending the while on me those eyes Whose beams might charm the mountain leopard, Or lure Jove's herald from above! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MIDSUMMER FROST (2) by ISAAC ROSENBERG DUTY SURVIVING SELF-LOVE; THE ONLY SURE FRIEND OF DECLINING LIFE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE UP-HILL by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNET: 106 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE SHADOWS IN THE WATER by THOMAS TRAHERNE SONG AT THE FEAST OF BROUGHAM CASTLE; UPON RSTORATION OF LORD CLIFFORD by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE TOUCHSTONE by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM |