THE DREAM.
39
THE DREAM,
a bust seen in the studio of an artist at rome.
SUMMER night in Rome,—Dear Rome, of Art and Song and Love the home!
An eve of rare delight,—
A murmuring, soft, immeasurable night,
A summer night in Rome!
No frigid Northern skies
Chill us from far, mocking our longing eyes
And yearning sympathies;—
Ah, no! the heaven bends kind and clasping here,
And in the ether clear
The stars seem warm and near.
Chill us from far, mocking our longing eyes
And yearning sympathies;—
Ah, no! the heaven bends kind and clasping here,
And in the ether clear
The stars seem warm and near.
This is the Artist's room,
Hushed in its purple gloom,—
The dim birth-chamber of his vital thought,
Hushed in its purple gloom,—
The dim birth-chamber of his vital thought,
