IN SUMMER NIGHTS.
121
Alone! But when the eternal summers flow And refluent drown in song all moan,Thy soul shall waste for its delight, and haste, Searching,—and I shall be no more alone!
XII. LISTENING.
Her white hand flashes on the strings, Sweeping a swift and silver chord,And wild and strong the great harp rings Its throng of throbbing tones abroad;Music and moonlight make a bloomThroughout the rich and sombre room.
Oh, sweet the long and shivering swells, And sweeter still the lingering flow,Delicious as remembered bells Dying in distance long ago,When evening winds from heaven were blown,And the heart yearned for things unknown!
Across the leafy window-place Peace seals the stainless sapphire deep;
