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THE WATCHERS.
How silently! the eye alone perceives
Their wave-like motions, as they come and go,—
Their steps fall noiselessly as falling leaves
Upon some lake wherein the lilies grow.
Their wave-like motions, as they come and go,—
Their steps fall noiselessly as falling leaves
Upon some lake wherein the lilies grow.
I know them not, who come and bless me so,
Their faces all are beautiful, but strange;
And yet I may have loved them long ago,—
Why should I be the only one to change?
Their faces all are beautiful, but strange;
And yet I may have loved them long ago,—
Why should I be the only one to change?
I know thee, sweet,—I know those loving eyes,
I know that fair head's brown-and-golden wave,
I know, too, the true heart which darkly lies
Far from the sunshine, buried in thy grave!
I know that fair head's brown-and-golden wave,
I know, too, the true heart which darkly lies
Far from the sunshine, buried in thy grave!
How would his soul forget its bitter strife
Could he but see thee as I see thee now,—
Fresh in the youth of the immortal life,
With bridal blooms still bright about thy brow!
Could he but see thee as I see thee now,—
Fresh in the youth of the immortal life,
With bridal blooms still bright about thy brow!
O the sweet rest ye bring me!—the release
From the close-clinging Nessus-robe of pain:
Ye calm the flying pulse, and charm to peace
The wildered fancies of the fevered brain.
From the close-clinging Nessus-robe of pain:
Ye calm the flying pulse, and charm to peace
The wildered fancies of the fevered brain.
