Thou Art My Long-Lost Place
THOU art my long-lost peace:
All trouble, and all care,
Like winds on the ocean cease —
Leaving serene and fair
The evening-gilded wave
Above the unmeasured deep —
When thy serene dark eyes
Call to the soul, in sleep —
All trouble, and all care,
Like winds on the ocean cease —
Leaving serene and fair
The evening-gilded wave
Above the unmeasured deep —
When thy serene dark eyes
Call to the soul, in sleep —
In sleep. The waking hour —
How sweet its power may be!
How lovely the bird, and flower
That feigned reality!
But further yet, there is
A spirit, strange to earth,
Within whose longing lies
What day can not bring forth.
How sweet its power may be!
How lovely the bird, and flower
That feigned reality!
But further yet, there is
A spirit, strange to earth,
Within whose longing lies
What day can not bring forth.
So I — though hand and lips,
Being body’s, pine for thine —
Watch from my dreams in sleep
What earthly clocks resign
To cloaked Eternity:
Then weeping, sighing, must go
Back to that haunt in me,
In rapture, and in woe.
Being body’s, pine for thine —
Watch from my dreams in sleep
What earthly clocks resign
To cloaked Eternity:
Then weeping, sighing, must go
Back to that haunt in me,
In rapture, and in woe.