Page:Songs of the Affections.pdf/177

Rh

I come with every star; Making thy streams, that on their noon-day track, Give but the moss, the reed, the lily back, Mirrors of worlds afar.

I come with peace;—I shed Sleep through thy wood-walks, o'er the honey-bee, The lark's triumphant voice, the fawn's young glee, The hyacinth's meek head.

On my own heart I lay The weary babe; and sealing with a breath Its eyes of love, send fairy dreams, beneath The shadowing lids to play.

I come with mightier things! Who calls me silent? I have many tones— The dark skies thrill with low, mysterious moans, Borne on my sweeping wings.