LET Silence with her long pale hands ravish the violin: Let Reverie with silken snare entoil the dancing foot! Rumours of antique beauty, love o' stars, and shriven sin, Die softly out from my tired soul! That I may rest, be mute! That I may rest, be mute! But let some faint and rhythmic voice intone me monkish tales Of tears occult, and pangs of unendurable divorce,— Alhambras rainbow-bright made sullen cloisters,—scourges,—veils,— The great white glimmering tomb of Love, the vigil of remorse. Foretell the long remorse. And oh! ye lovely wasting eyes, let sleep blindfold you well! Peace! Peace! Tyrannic heart, what more, what more to give have I? Yea! tirèd through with love I am, for ever it befell That, married to immortal dreams, all mortal dreamers die:— Of too much beauty die! So, that some silver moons the more Love's torches flame for me, Give me a night of Lotos. Let the great grey waters quite Close over; and, because my soul has wrought my flesh to be Like essence,—ghosts and fairies fine alone shall touch to-night. Oh! Elfin hands to-night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A TOCCATA OF GALUPPI'S by ROBERT BROWNING TO THE PIOUS MEMORY OF THE YOUNG LADY MRS. ANNE KILLIGREW by JOHN DRYDEN YOUR HANDS by ANGELINA WELD GRIMKE A WORKING PARTY by SIEGFRIED SASSOON MY LITTLE CAPE COD MAIDEN by KATHERINE FINNIGAN ANDERSON ADDRESS SPOKEN AT THE OPENING OF THE DRURY-LANE THEATRE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |