Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/247

Rh And spell thy looks, and guess thy thoughts,

Mixed with the idlers on the pier.

Ah! might I always rest unseen,

So I might have thee always near!

To-morrow hurry through the fields

Of Flanders to the storied Rhine!

To-night those soft-fringed eyes shall close

Beneath one roof, my queen! with mine.

FADED LEAVES.

glides the stream, slow drops the boat

Under the rustling poplars' shade;

Silent the swans beside us float:

None speaks, none heeds; ah, turn thy head!

Let those arch eyes now softly shine,

That mocking mouth grow sweetly bland;

Ah! let them rest, those eyes, on mine!

On mine let rest that lovely hand!

My pent-up tears oppress my brain,

My heart is swoln with love unsaid.

Ah! let me weep, and tell my pain,

And on thy shoulder rest my head!

Before I die,—before the soul,

Which now is mine, must re-attain

Immunity from my control,

And wander round the world again;