Dragonssss

Dragonssss

Arise from dreams of thee
  In the first sweet sleep or night,
When the winds are breathing low,
  And the stars are shining bright:
I arise from dreams of thee,
  And a spirit in my feet
Has led me- who knows how?
  To thy chamber-window, sweet!

The wandering airs they faint
  On the dark, the silent stream-
The champak odors fail
  Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint,
  It dies upon her heart-
As I must die on thine,
  Oh, beloved as thou art!


Oh, lift me from the grass!
  I die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
  On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
  My heart beats loud and fast-
Oh! press it close to thine own again,
  Where it will break at last!

Dragonssss

Where had I heard this wind before

Change like this to a deeper roar?

What would it take my standing there for,

Holding open a restive door,

Looking downhill to a frothy shore?

Summer was past and day was past.

Somber clouds in the west were massed.

Out in the porch's sagging floor

Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,

Blindly struck at my knee and missed.

Something sinister in the tone

Told me my secret must be known:

Word I was in the house alone

Somehow must have gotten abroad,

Word I was in my life alone,

Word I had no one left but God.

Dragonssss

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heap'd for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts when thou are gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

Dragonssss

Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind
For, from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breast, and quiet mind,
To war and arms I fly.

True, a new mistress now I chase,
The first foe in the field;
And with a stronger faith- embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.

Yet this unconstancy is such
As you too shall adore;
For, I could not love thee, Dear, so much,
Loved I not honour more.

Dragonssss

Lovers, forget your love,
And list to the love of these,
She a window flower,
And he a winter breeze.

When the frosty window veil
Was melted down at noon,
And the caged yellow bird
Hung over her in tune,

He marked her through the pane,
He could not help but mark,
And only passed her by
To come again at dark.

He was a winter wind,
Concerned with ice and snow,
Dead weeds and unmated birds,
And little of love could know.

But he sighed upon the sill,
He gave the sash a shake,
As witness all within
Who lay that night awake.

Perchance he half prevailed
To win her for the flight
From the firelit looking-glass
And warm stove-window light.

But the flower leaned aside
And thought of naught to say,
And morning found the breeze
A hundred miles away.

Dragonssss

She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:

A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
Fair as a star-- when only one
Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!

Dragonssss

It's such a little thing to weep,

So short a thing to sigh;

And yet by trades the size of these

We men and women die!

Dragonssss

When I look into your eyes- I see the sunset,
When you smile- I see the moon rise.
When the wind blows- I can feel your gentle touch,
The gentle touch I've longed for, so much.

Your special ways capture my heart,
Something you accomplished from the start.  
You always know just what to say
That makes me feel good in every way.

Your special thoughts are always true,
I always feel this when I am blue.
You are always there as my friend,
Something I will always cherish till the end.

You filled my heart with love and joy,
You're the only one who never took it as a toy.  
Thank you for being true,  
Thank you... for always being you !

Dragonssss

Whose woods these are I think I know;
His house is in the village, though.
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Dragonssss

Mild is the parting year and sweet
The odour of the falling spray;
Life passes on more rudely fleet,
And balmless is its closing day.

I wait its close, I court its gloom,
But mourn that never must there fall;
Or on my breast or on my tomb
The tear that would have soothed it all.