Sometimes I feel you here—
The magic of sunshine, the golden haze
That spreads down from the clouds
To hang as a crown atop my head.
I whisper your name in the shadows,
And dream of your eyes, heavy-lidded
With smoky rapture, with the ecstasy
Of a thousand nights, of all lovers.
Your couch is the most sweet of all,
And it is also the most transient,
Torn away in a moment of bitterness.
The beauty of the eternity lies here, now—
With you, my goddess.
From ‘Comus’
ii. Echo
SWEET Echo, sweetest Nymph that liv’st unseen
Within thy airy shell
By slow Meander’s margent green,
And in the violet imbroider’d vale
Where the love-lorn Nightingale
Nightly to thee her sad Song mourneth well.
Canst thou not tell me of a gentle Pair
That likest thy Narcissus are?
O if thou have
Hid them in som flowry Cave,
Tell me but where
Sweet Queen of Parly, Daughter of the Sphear!
So maist thou be translated to the skies,
And give resounding grace to all Heav’ns Harmonies!
