The Shepherd to the Evening Star

Star of my soul, arise;
Shew forth thy silver shining!
For thee the sunset skies
With love and light are pining:
The tents of evening spread for thee
Their rich and radiant canopy.

All day the tender lemon trees
Above the pathway bending
Drooped their still boughs in odorous ease
Thine advent cool attending:
But now the little winds that blow
Sway their faint petals to and fro.

The dim mysterious avenues
Of olives interwoven
Respire again, and drink the dews;
And where their skirts are cloven,
Black funeral flames of cypresses
Shoot skyward from the purple seas.

My sheep and goats are housed: their bells
Keep silence on the meadow;
And solitude hath spread the fells
With her aerial shadow:
I scarce can hear a sound, or see
A single thing to hinder thee.

Come, star! Come, lover! Let me feel
The wonder of thy kisses:
Breathe in my brain the thoughts that steal
Through heaven's blue wildernesses:
But when the maiden moon is free,
Leave me to sleep and dream of thee!