Dreamed Tryst
Beloved one! when the shy Dawn flower-sweet,
In her white sleeping gown of mist and pearl,
Sees the great Sun, and from her cloud-hung bed
Slips softly, flushing like a startled girl
And stands upright on fair rose-coloured feet
While all the golden light is round her shed . . .
'Tis then that yearning severed souls may meet. . . .
In her white sleeping gown of mist and pearl,
Sees the great Sun, and from her cloud-hung bed
Slips softly, flushing like a startled girl
And stands upright on fair rose-coloured feet
While all the golden light is round her shed . . .
'Tis then that yearning severed souls may meet. . . .
Slowly the glory widens in the sky . . .
And in the meadows thick with folded flowers
The daisies stir already in their sleep . . .
My soul lay waiting all the long night hours,
But now thy promised presence hovers nigh
In this still room I seem to hear the sweep
Of thy soul's wings . . . O! whither shall we fly?
And in the meadows thick with folded flowers
The daisies stir already in their sleep . . .
My soul lay waiting all the long night hours,
But now thy promised presence hovers nigh
In this still room I seem to hear the sweep
Of thy soul's wings . . . O! whither shall we fly?