Classic Poem

Daughter of Dawn and of Twilight,
Spirit of calm and delay,
Hater of haste and of high-light,
Nurse of the slow, dying day: —
Bring me thy peace-giving potion —
Essence of mountain and sea —
Give me thy lips for a lotion;
Come — come to me — come to me!

Others will sing thee more sweetly,
Others will courtlier bow;
Others will toast thee more neatly —
Bringing the blush to thy brow.
Ah, but my longing is tragical,
Holding my breath till I feel
Touch of thy finger-tips magical
Over my temple-pulse steal.

Yes, I was sure of thy presence —
Love is the magical rose!
Light as the whirr of the pheasants
Hastens my maiden — Repose!
Daughter of Dawn and of Twilight,
Spirit of calm and delay,
Hater of haste and of high-light,
Nurse of the slow, dying day.