On such a tranquil night as this, Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought, Its deep, impassioned gaze. It comes, the beautiful, the free, In silence and alone To seek the elected one. It lifts the boughs, whose shadows deep, Are Life's oblivion, the soul's sleep, And kisses the closed eyes Of him, who slumbering lies. O, weary hearts! O, slumbering eyes! Are fraught with fear and pain, No one is so accursed by fate, No one so utterly desolate, But some heart, though unknown, Responds unto his own. Responds, as if with unseen wings, An angel touched its quivering strings; And whispers, in its song, "Where hast thou stayed so long!" N THE TWO LOCKS OF HAIR. FROM THE GERMAN OF PFIZER. A YOUTH, light-hearted and content, I wander through the world; Here, Arab-like, is pitched my tent And straight again is furled. Yet oft I dream, that once a wife A blessed child I rocked. I wake! Away that dream,-away! Too long did it remain ! So long, that both by night and day It ever comes again. The end lies ever in my thought; But now the dream is wholly o'er, And wander through the world once more, A youth so light and free. Two locks, and they are wondrous fair,— Left me that vision mild; The brown is from the mother's hair, The blond is from the child. |