Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/759

 PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

O lift me from the grass!

I die! 1 faint' I fail! Let thy love in kisses rain

On my lips and eyelids pale. My cheek is cold and white, alas'

My heart beats loud and fast O press it to thine own again,

Where it will break at last'

��Night

SWIFTLY walk o'er the western wave,

Out of the misty eastern cave, Where, all the long and lone daylight, Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear Which make thee terrible and dear, Swift be thy flight'

Wrap thy form in a mantle grey,

Star-inwrought '

Blind with thine hair the eyes of Day; Kiss her until she be wearied out. Then wander o'er city and sea and land, Touching all with thine opiate wand

Come, long-sought'

When I arose and saw the dawn

I sigh'd for thee;

When light rode high, and the dew was gone, And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,

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