James Russell Lowell (Джеймс Расселл Лоуэлл)

A Love-Dream

    Pleasant thoughts come wandering,
    When thou art far, from thee to me;
    On their silver wings they bring
    A very peaceful ecstasy,
    A feeling of eternal spring;
    So that Winter half forgets
    Everything but that thou art,
    And, in his bewildered heart,
    Dreameth of the violets,
    Or those bluer flowers that ope,
    Flowers of steadfast love and hope,
    Watered by the living wells,
  Of memories dear, and dearer prophecies,
    When young spring forever dwells
    In the sunshine of thine eyes.

    I have most holy dreams of thee,
     All night I have such dreams;
    And, when I awake, reality
     No whit the darker seems;
  Through the twin gates of Hope and Memory
    They pour in crystal streams
    From out an angel's calmèd eyes,
    Who, from twilight till sunrise,
    Far away in the upper deep,
    Poised upon his shining wings,
    Over us his watch doth keep,
    And, as he watcheth, ever sings.

    Through the still night I hear him sing,
     Down-looking on our sleep;
    I hear his clear, clear harp-strings ring,
    And, as the golden notes take wing,
    Gently downward hovering,
     For very joy I weep;
    He singeth songs of holy Love,
    That quiver through the depths afar,
    Where the blessèd spirits are,
    And lingeringly from above
    Shower till the morning star
    His silver shield hath buckled on
    And sentinels the dawn alone,
    Quivering his gleamy spear
    Through the dusky atmosphere.

    Almost, my love, I fear the morn,
    When that blessèd voice shall cease,
    Lest it should leave me quite forlorn,
    Stript of my snowy robe of peace;
    And yet the bright reality
    Is fairer than all dreams can be,
    For, through my spirit, all day long,
    Ring echoes of that angel-song
    In melodious thoughts of thee;
    And well I know it cannot die
    Till eternal morn shall break,
    For, through life's slumber, thou and I
    Will keep it for each other's sake,
  And it shall not be silent when we wake.

1. Fancies about a Rosebud, Pressed in an Old Copy of Spenser
2. My Friend, Adown Life's Valley, Hand in Hand
3. Verse Cannot Say How Beautiful Thou Art
4. Sayest Thou, Most Beautiful, That Thou Wilt Wear
5. “No More But So?”

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