Classic Poem

The morning dew, and eke the gentle rain
Are grateful to the earth;
They usher in the birth
Of flow'rs and fruitfulness. The scorchèd plain
Drinks deep the draught and all things bloom again.

The sweet winds fan the leaves until they lisp
Soft music in our ears,
And drop the pearly tears
Aurora wept on them ere morning broke,
And am'rous Day from fev'rish dreams awoke.

They kiss the water till the wavelet swells,
And lifts its glassy face
To an unseen embrace.
Then sigh away where some fond maiden trips
And steal the nectar from her coral lips.

Like wanton thieves they wander mongst the flow'rs,
Kissing the violet
With od'rous moisture wet,
And waft those sweets where suff'rers moan with pain,
Making them long for primrose meads again.

All these do move me much, fair girl, but thou
Dost wield a mightier power,
For one dim fleeting hour
Of bliss with thee creates what ne'er can cloy—
A world, an exaltation and a joy.

Give me those kisses—they are mine! In truth,
Desire and love of thee
Are as a boundless sea
Which ebbeth, floweth, swelleth in my heart,
Bearing deep thoughts from which I may not part.

Garland thy milky arms around my neck,
And let thine orbèd eyes
Their orient merchandize
Discover in the wasting of the light
Like stars which shed their glory in the night.

Or let me sleep, as doth a wearied child,
Clasped to thy beating breast,
In dreamy mansion blest,
And wake to find thine ageless smiles indeed
The fragrant dew on which young love doth feed.