Page:Poems of Sentiment and Imagination.djvu/209

Rh ::As I lean upon the sill; And their murmur makes a feeling That on earth hath no revealing, But that sleepeth in my bosom
 * Mute and eloquent and still,

And their touch upon my forehead
 * Wakes a strangely pleasant thrill.

Where the topmost boughs are swinging, And the waving leaves are singing One low song of love forever
 * To the azure up on high,

Does my soul delight to hover, With the cool leaves for a cover, Resting in a swaying cradle,
 * Looking up into the sky!

With a motion soft as music
 * Swaying in the tree-top high!

O how blest is my wild spirit. When no earthly thought is near it, As it lies 'mid dreams and visions
 * In the arms of the old tree!

All the whispering leaflets bless it. And the wild wind doth caress it. And the soft and dreamy azure
 * Can my spirit only see;

And that seems to grow and deepen
 * Into strange infinity.

But there is a solemn hour When the tree hath wilder power— In the deep and starry midnight,
 * When I sit and watch the sky—

When the foliage moans and shivers. And the starlight o'er it quivers, And the shadows creep and tremble
 * O'er the casement where they lie—