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On such a tranquil night as this,
She woke Endymion with a kiss,

When, sleeping in the grove,
He dreamed not of her love.

Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought,
Love gives itself, but is not bought ;

Nor voice, nor sound betrays
Its deep, impassioned gaze.

It comes, — the beautiful, the free,
The crown of all humanity, —

In silence and alone
To seek the elected one.

It lifts the boughs, whose shadows deep,
Are Life's oblivion, the soul's sleep,

And kisses the closed eyes
Of him, who slumbering lies.

O, weary hearts ! O, slumbering eyes !
O, drooping souls, whose destinies

Are fraught with fear and pain,
Ye shall be loved again!

No one is so accursed by fate,
No one so utterly desolate,

But some heart, though unknown,
Responds unto his own.

Responds, — as if with unseen wings,
A breath from heaven had touched its strings;

And whispers, in its song,
. “Where hast thou stayed so long ! "



A youth, light-hearted and content,

I wander through the world ; Here, Arab-like, is pitched my tent

And straight again is furled.

Yet oft I dream, that once a wife

Close in my heart was locked, And in the sweet repose of life

A blessed child I rocked.


I wake! Away that dream, — away!

Too long did it remain !
So long, that both by night and day

It ever comes again.

The end lies ever in my thought;

To a grave so cold and deep
The mother beautiful was brought;

Then dropt the child asleep.

But now the dream is wholly o’er,

I bathe mine eyes and see ; And wander through the world once more,

A youth so light and free.

Two locks, - and they are wondrous fair,

Left me that vision mild;
The brown is from the mother's hair,

The blond is from the child.

And when I see that lock of gold,

Pale grows the evening-red ; And when the dark lock I behold,

I wish that I were dead.

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