Serenade.

Awake! arise! and let me see

Thine eyes, whose deeps epitomize

All dawns that were or are to be,

O love, all Heaven in thine eyes!→→
Awake! arise! come down to me!

Behold! the dawn is up: behold!

How all the birds around her float,
Wild rills of music, note on note,
Spilling the air with mellow gold.—
Arise! awake! and, drawing near,

Let me but hear thee and rejoice!
Thou, who keep'st captive, sweet and clear,
All song, O love, within thy voice!
Arise! awake! and let me hear!

701

See, where she comes, with limbs of day,
The dawn! with wild-rose hands and feet,
Within whose veins the sunbeams beat,
And laughters meet of wind and ray..
Arise! come down! and, heart to heart,
Love, let me clasp in thee all these→→→
The sunbeam, of which thou art part,
And all the rapture of the breeze!-
Arise! come down! loved that thou art!
Madison Cawein [1865-1914]

Where lies in happy sleep a girl so fair!

For ye have power, men say,

Our hearts in sleep to sway,

And cage cold fancies in a moonlight snare.

Round ivory neck and arm

Enclasp a separate charm;

Hang o'er her poised, but breathe nor sigh nor prayer:

Silently ye may smile,

But hold your breath the while,

And let the wind sweep back your cloudy hair!

Bend down your glittering urns,

Ere yet the dawn returns,

And star with dew the lawn her feet shall tread;

Upon the air rain balm,

Bid all the woods be calm,

Ambrosial dreams with healthful slumbers wed;

That so the Maiden may

With smiles your care repay,

When from her couch she lifts her golden head;
Waking with earliest birds,

Ere yet the misty herds

Leave warm 'mid the gray grass their dusky bed.

1

Aubrey Thomas De Vere [1814-1902]

LINES TO AN INDIAN AIR

I ARISE from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright.
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Has led me who knows how?
To thy chamber window, sweet!

The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream;
The champak odors fail

Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart,

As I must die on thine,

O beloved as thou art!,

O lift me from the grass!

I die, I faint, I fail!

Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.

My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast;
Oh! press it close to thine again,
Where it must break at last.

Percy Bysshe Shelley [1792-1822]

Serenade

703

GOOD-NIGHT

GOOD-NIGHT? ah! no; the hour is ill
Which severs those it should unite;
Let us remain together still,

Then it will be good night.

How can I call the lone night good,
Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight?
Be it not said, thought, understood,
Then it will be good night.

To hearts which near each other move
From evening close to morning light,
The night is good; because, my love,

They never say good-night.

Percy Bysshe Shelley [1792-1822]

SERENADE

From "Sylvia"

AWAKE thee, my lady-love,

Wake thee and rise!

The sun through the bower peeps

Into thine eyes!

Behold how the early lark

Springs from the corn!

Hark, hark how the flower-bird

Winds her wee horn!

The swallow's glad shriek is heard

All through the air;

The stock-dove is murmuring

Loud as she dare!

Apollo's winged bugleman

Cannot contain,

But peals his loud trumpet-call

Once and again! .

Then wake thee, my lady-love

Bird of my bower!

The sweetest and sleepiest

Bird at this hour!

George Darley [1795-1846)

SERENADE

Ан, sweet, thou little knowest how
I wake and passionate watches keep;
And yet, while I address thee now,
Methinks thou smilest in thy sleep.
'Tis sweet enough to make me weep,

That tender thought of love and thee,
That while the world is hushed so deep,
Thy soul's perhaps awake to me!

Sleep on, sleep on, sweet bride of sleep!
With golden visions for thy dower,
While I this midnight vigil keep,

L

And bless thee in thy silent bower; To me 'tis sweeter than the power Of sleep, and fairy dreams unfurled, That I alone, at this still hour, In patient love outwatch the world. I Thomas Hood [1799-1845]

SERENADE

Look out upon the stars, my love,

And shame them with thine eyes, On which, than on the lights above, There hang more destinies. Night's beauty is the harmony

Of blending shades and light: Then, lady, up,-look out, and be A sister to the night!

Sleep not!-thine image wakes for aye.

Within my watching breast;

Sleep not! from her soft sleep should fly,

Who robs all hearts of rest.

Serenade

Nay, lady, from thy slumbers break,

And make this darkness gay,

With looks whose brightness well might make

Of darker nights a day.

705

Edward Coate Pinkney [1802-1828]

SERENADE

HIDE, happy damask, from the stars,
What sleep enfolds behind your veil,
But open to the fairy cars

On which the dreams of midnight sail;
And let the zephyrs rise and fall
About her in the curtained gloom,
And then return to tell me all

The silken secrets of the room.

Ah! dearest! may the elves that sway
Thy fancies come from emerald plots,.
Where they have dozed and dreamed all day
In hearts of blue forget-me-nots.

And one perhaps shall whisper thus:
Awake! and light the darkness, Sweet! i

While thou art reveling with us,

He watches in the lonely street.

,』 ན, ༣,)』

Far down yon western steeps, 1

Sink, sink in silver light!