HUSH! hush! list, heart of mine, and hearken low! You do not guess how tender is the Night, And in what faintest murmurs of delight Her deep, dim-throated utterances flow Across the memories of long-ago! Hark! do your senses catch the exquisite Staccatos of a bird that dreams he sings? Nay, then, you hear not rightly, -- 'tis a blur Of misty love-notes, laughs and whisperings The Night pours o'er the lips that fondle her, And that faint breeze, filled with all fragrant sighs, -- That is her breath that quavers lover-wise -- O blessed sweetheart, with thy swart, sweet kiss, Baptize me, drown me in black swirls of bliss! |