Love-in-Idleness

We sit serenely 'neath the night,
As still as stars with swift delight;
In tears, that show how in Life's deep
The hidden pearls of beauty sleep!
And quiet, as of sleeping trees,
And silence, as of sleeping seas.
The channels of our bliss run fil'd,
Their faintest happy murmur still'd.

Upon my forehead rests thy palm,
And on my spirit rests thy calm.
I cannot see thy cheek, but know
Its sea of rose-bloom hath a glow
Like ruby light, and richly lies
The dew i' the shadow of thine eyes:
Deep eyes! like wells of tenderness,
That ask how they may soothliest bless.

Warm fragrance like the soul o' the South,
Is round us, and thy damask mouth
With the sweet spirit of its breath,
Dissolves me in delicious death.
Musk-roses blowing in the gloom,
Drop fragrance fainting in the room;
Such sensuous sadness fills the air,
Ripe life a bloom of dew doth wear.

The harping hand hath dull'd the lyre
Of thrilling heartstrings — by their fire
That droops, the dreamy Passions doze
In large luxuriance of repose.
While we our fields of pleasure reap,
Our Babes lie in the wood of Sleep:
One, first love's dream of beauty wrought!
One, the more perfect afterthought.

We sit with silent glory crown' d,

And Love's arms wound like heaven round:

Or on rich clouds of fragrance swim

The summer dusk so cool and dim.

I only see — that thou art near;

I only feel— I have thee, dear!

I only hear thy beating heart,

And know that we can never part.