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Bright star,
would I were steadfast as thou art! -
Not in lone
splendour hung aloft the night,
And watching, with
eternal lids apart,
Like Nature's patient sleepless
Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or
gazing on the new soft fallen mask
Of snow upon the
mountains and the moors -
No -yet still steadfast,
still unchangeable,
Pillowed upon my fair love's
ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and
swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still,
still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live
ever -or else swoon to death.
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