SHALL we roam, my love, To the twilight grove, When the moon is rising bright; Oh, I'll whisper there, In the cool night-air, What I dare not in broad day-light! I'll tell thee a part Of the thoughts that start To being when thou art nigh; And thy beauty, more bright Than the stars' soft light, Shall seem as a weft from the sky. When the pale moonbeam On tower and stream Sheds a flood of silver sheen, How I love to gaze As the cold ray strays O'er thy face, my heart's throned queen. Wilt thou roam with me To the restless sea, And linger upon the steep, And list to the flow Of the waves below How they toss and roar and leap? Those boiling waves And the storm that raves At night o'er their foaming crest, Resemble the strife That, from earliest life, The passions have waged in my breast. Oh, come then and rove To the sea or the grove, When the moon is shining bright, And I'll whisper there, In the cool night-air, What I dare not in broad day-light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CANADIAN BOAT SONG; WRITTEN ON THE RIVER ST. LAWRENCE by THOMAS MOORE THE COLISEUM by EDGAR ALLAN POE THE BIRTH SONG OF CHRIST by EDMUND HAMILTON SEARS IN A VISION OF THE NIGHT by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 36 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |