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Poem by Gerald Massey
Love in Idleness
WE sit serenely 'neath the Night, As still as stars, with swift delight; In tears, that tell how in Life's deep The hidden pearls of beauty sleep; And silent, as of sleeping Seas, And quiet, as of dreaming Trees: The river of our bliss runs filled, Its faintest happy murmur stilled. Upon my forehead rests thy palm, And on my spirit rests thy calm: I cannot see thy face, but know Its sea of rose-bloom hath a glow Like ruby light: and richly lies The dew and shadows in thine eyes; That ask how they may soothliest bless, Like crystal-wells of tenderness. Warm fragrance, like the soul o' the South, Is round thee; and thy damask mouth Dissolves me in delicious death, It doth so breathe ambrosial breath! Musk-roses blowing in the gloom, Drop fragrance fainting in the room; And such fine sadness fills the air, Ripe Life a bloom of dew doth wear. We sit, with silent glory crowned, And Love's arms wound in amorous round; As on rich clouds of fragrance swim The summer dusk, so cool, and dim! 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 after-thought! The harping hand hath dulled the lyre Of thrilling heart-strings. By their fire Droopt low, the dreamy Passions doze, In large luxuriance of repose. I only see—that thou art near; I only feel—I have thee, Dear! I only hear thy throbbing heart, And know that we can never part.
Gerald Massey's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org