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FANCIES.
Far dusky deeps, and wide still air, Where fainting fragrance rolls along;A bird that warbles in his dream Some thrill of broken song.
Thick fruit-flowers languishing for light Around us in the perfect gloom;And, as we wait, far off and low, The distant breakers' boom.
Ah! among all delicious nights, Give me this hour's transcendent swoon;Enchanted song, enchanted hush, And May without a moon!
V. SEPTEMBER.
Why does the wind at the casement sigh In the gloom of the gray wet dawn?The light is lost from the sea and sky, And the rose is gone!
Gone—and the sunshine after her, Color and fire and perfumed dew:
