IN witching slumbers of the night, I dream'd I was the airy sprite That on thy natal moment smiled; And thought I wafted on my wing Those flowers which in Elysium spring, To crown my lovely mortal child. With olive-branch I bound thy head, Heart's-ease along thy path I shed, Which was to bloom through all thy years Nor yet did I forget to bind Love's roses, with his myrtle twined, And dew'd by sympathetic tears. Such was the wild but precious boon, Which Fancy, at her magic noon, Bade me to Nona's image pay -- Oh! were I, love, thus doom'd to be Thy little guardian deity, How blest around thy steps I'd play! Thy life should softly steal along, Calm as some lonely shepherd's song That 's heard at distance in the grove; No cloud should ever shade thy sky, No thorns along thy pathway lie, But all be sunshine, peace, and love! The wing of time should never brush Thy dewy lip's luxuriant flush, To bid its roses withering die; Nor age itself, though dim and dark, Should ever quench a single spark That flashes from my Nona's eye! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...APPELLATE JURISDICTION by MARIANNE MOORE TO A LILY by JAMES MATHEWES LEGARE THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 83. BARREN SPRING by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI PESSIMIST AND OPTIMIST by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE KNITTING by MARGARET BARBER THE TINY HAT UPON THE BROW by LEVI BISHOP A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 19 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |