THE Flower unfolds its dawning cup, And the young sun drinks the star-dews up, At eve it droops with the bliss of day, And dreams in the midnight far away. So am I in thy sole, sweet glance Pressed with a weight of utterance; Lovingly all my leaves unfold, And gleam to the beams of thirsty gold. At eve I droop, for then the swell Of feeling falters forth farewell; -- At midnight I am dreaming deep, Of what has been, in blissful sleep. When -- ah! when will love's own light Wed me alike thro' day and night, When will the stars with their linking charms Wake us in each other's arms? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRINGED GENTIANS by AMY LOWELL PRO PATRIA MORI by THOMAS MOORE HARVEST MOON: 1914 by JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY OVER THE RIVER by NANCY WOODBURY PRIEST HEART AND MIND by EDITH SITWELL GREAT BELL ROLAND; SUGGESTED BY PRESIDENT'S CALL VOLUNTEERS by THEODORE TILTON |