Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: THE POET. Upon a bed of flowery moss, With moonbeams falling all across Moonbeams chilly and faint and dim, (Sweet eyes I ween do watch for him) Lieth his starry dreams among, The gentlest poet ever sung. The wood is thick—'t is late in night, Yet feareth he no evil sprite, Nor vexing ghost—such things there be In many a poet's destiny. Haply some wretched fast or prayer, Pained and long, hath charmed the air. Softer than hymenial hymns The fountains, bubbling o'er their rims, Wash through the vernal reeds, and fill The hollows : all beside is still, Save the poet's breathing, low and light. Watch no more, lady—no more to-night !- Heavy his gold locks are with dew, Yet by the pansies mixed with rue 22 THEPOET. Bitter and rough, but now that fell From his shut hand, he sleepeth well. He sleepeth well, and his dream is bright Under the moonbeams chilly and white. The night is dreary, the boy is fair— Hath he been mated with Despair, Or crossed in love, that he lies alone With shadows and moonlight overblown— Shadows and moonlight chilly and dim? And do no sweet eyes watch for him ? Nay, rather is his soul instead With immortal thirst disquieted, That oft like an echo wild and faint He makes to the hills and the groves his plaint 1 That oft the light on his forehead gleams, So troubled under its crown of dreams ? Watch no more, lady, no more, I pray, He is wrapt in a lonely power away ! Sweet boy, so sleeping, might it be That any prayer I said for thee Could answer win from the spirit shore, This were it, " Let him wake no more!" LILY LEE. I Did love thee, Lily Lee, As the petrel loves the sea, As the wild bee loves the thyme, As the poet loves his rhyme, As the blossom loves the dew— But the angels...