FullReads

1

The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see
The wantonest singing birds
Are lips – and all thy melody
Of lip-begotten words –

2

Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrin’d
Then desolately fall,
O! God! on my funereal mind
Like starlight on a pall –

3

Thy heart – thy heart! – I wake and sigh,
And sleep to dream till day
Of truth that gold can never buy –
Of the trifles that it may.