Classic Poem

Winds, whisper gently whilst she sleeps,
And fan her with your cooling wings;
Whilst she her drops of beauty weeps
From pure and yet-unrivalled springs.

Glide over beauty's field, her face,
To kiss her lip and cheek be bold,
But with a calm and stealing pace,
Neither too rude, nor yet too cold.

Play in her beams, and crisp her hair,
With such a gale as wings soft love,
And with so sweet, so rich an air,
As breathes from the Arabian grove.

A breath as hushed as lover's sigh,
Or that unfolds the morning door;
Sweet as the winds that gently fly
To sweep the spring's enamelled floor.

Murmur soft music to her dreams,
That pure and unpolluted run
Like to the new-born crystal streams
Under the bright enamoured sun.

But when she waking shall display
Her light, retire within your bar:
Her breath is life, her eyes are day,
And all mankind her creatures are.