Page:Poems of Sentiment and Imagination.djvu/255

Rh The waving of the spray in its sweet motion
 * Is like the flowing of thy graceful hair!

Therefore for these I cherish a devotion,
 * That more than admiration of the fair.

But most, this lonely day, I'm thrilled and haunted
 * By this strange murmuring music in the trees—

Of all earth's melody the most enchanted—
 * This whispering of the leaflets and the breeze;

Oh! I am haunted—haunted by its sweetness;
 * It is so like thine own low, loving tone—

It fills my ear with music to repleteness,
 * And fills my soul with harmony alone!

Yes, it is like thy voice, and like it only—
 * Thy whispering, soothing, and mysterious voice!

It charms me from my sorrow wild and lonely—
 * My heart at its low murmur doth rejoice;

It seems to whisper my own name unto me,
 * As thou didst whisper it days long flown—

It seems to call on me and bless and woo rae
 * With tender dream, and thought, and yearning tone.

Ah! softly move the trees! and toward me bending,
 * They seem to woo me to their graceful arms;

The music and the motion sweetly blending,
 * Bewilder and allure me with their charms!

They seem to promise me a time affection,
 * A pity for my loneliness and grief—

A care, a love, a beautiful protection,
 * A sleep where weariness may find relief.

The sky is beauty and the air is sweetness—
 * The shining clouds like billows melt away;

The earth hath robed herself with love's completeness
 * This rosy, musical, and fragrant day.