Page:Forget Me Not 1837.pdf/4

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Silent are its once sweet numbers, Like all things around; On her cheek the rose is breathing With its softest red; And the auburn hair is wreathing Round the graceful head: Changeth not that rosy shade, Stirreth not that auburn braid.

Hath the wild west wind then only Leave to come and weep? Is the lovely one left lonely To her charmed sleep? No, when yon full moon has risen O'er the azure lake, Cometh one to that sweet prison For the sleeper's sake; On that only moonlit hour Hath the gentle fairy power.

Then she calls fair spirits nigh her, Each one with a dream, So with sweet thoughts to supply her, And those shadows seem Real as life, but that each vision Hath a lovelier ray, More etherial and elysian Than earth's common day. Human thoughts and feelings keep Life in that enchanted sleep.