Dreaming Love

I saw Love in a strange and hidden place;
His face was as the face of one who dreams,
Yea, as some weary slumberer's who seems.
By the glad smile which lightens all his face,
To walk once more 'mid old loved country ways,
What time the tender April twilight teems
With songs, and breath of lilacs, and the streams
Run with the sound of wind through some green maze.

Love's hands were folded on his quiet breast, —
But, lo, a far-off voice called, " Love, arise;
The night is ended and the dream is done."
Then Love unclosed his fair and mournful eyes.
Took up his staff, and turned him from his rest,
And as he went shone round his path the sun.