Page:Poems (IA poemstennalfr00tennrich).pdf/126

 How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream, With halfshut eves ever to seem Falling asleep in a half-dream! To dream and dream, like yonder amber light, Which will not leave the myrrhbush on the height; To hear each other's whispered speech; Eating the Lotos, day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray: To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mildminded melancholy; To muse and brood, and live again in memory, With those old faces of our infancy Heaped over with a mound of grass, Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass:

Or, propt on beds of amaranth and moly, How sweet (while warm airs lull us, blowing lowly,) With halfdropt eyelids still,