Page:Poems Barrett.djvu/294

Bring the red cloud from the sun!
 While he sinketh, catch it—
That shall be a couch,—with one
 Sidelong star to watch it,—
Fit for poet's finest Thought,
 At the curfew-sounding,—
Things unseen being nearer brought
 Than the seen, around him.

Poet's thought,—not poet's sigh!
 'Las, they come together!
Cloudy walls divide and fly,
 As in April weather!
Corridor and column proud,
 Chamber bright to see—
Gone!—except that moonlit cloud,
 To which I looked with thee!

Let them! Wipe such visionings
 From the Fancy's cartel—
Love secures some fairer things
 Dowered with his immortal!
Suns may darken,—heaven be bowed—
 Still, unchanged shall be,—
Soul-deep,—here—that moonlit cloud,
 To which I looked with thee!

Catalina to Camoens;

DYING IN HIS ABSENCE ABROAD, AND REFERRING TO
THE POEM IN WHICH HE RECORDED THE
SWEETNESS OF HER EYES.

On the door you will not enter,
 I have gazed too long—adieu!
Hope withdraws her peradventure—
 Death is near me,—and not you!