Джеральд Масси (Gerald Massey)




Текст оригинала на английском языке

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SWEET Spirit of my love!
Thro' all the world we walk apart:
        Thou mayst not in my bosom lie:
I may not press thee to my heart,
        Nor see love-thinkings light thine eye:
Yet art thou with me.    All my life
        Orbs out in thy warm beauty's sphere;
My bravest dreams of thee are rife,
        And coloured with thy presence dear.

                     Sweet Spirit of my love!
I know how beautiful thou art,
        But never tell the starry thought:
I only whisper to my heart,
        "She lights with heaven thy earthliest spot."
And birds that night and day rejoice,
        And fragrant winds, give back to me
A music ringing of thy voice,
        And surge my heart's love-tide to thee.

                     Sweet Spirit of my love!
The Spring and Summer bloom-bedight,
        That garland Earth with rainbow-showers,—
Morn's hissing breath, and eyes of light,
        That wake in smiles the winking flowers,
The air with honey'd fragrance fed,
        The flashing waters, —soughing tree,—
Noon's golden glory,— sundown red,
        Aye warble into songs of thee.

                     Sweet Spirit of my love!
When Night's soft silence clothes the earth,
        And wakes the passionate bird of love
And Stars laugh out in golden mirth,
        And yearning souls divinelier move
When God's breath hallows every spot,
        And, lapp'd in feeling's luxury,
The heart's break-full of tender thought
        Then art thou with me, still with me.

                     Sweet Spirit-of my love!
I listen for thy footfall, —feel
        Thy look is burning on me, such
As reads my heart:  I sometimes reel
        And throb, expectant for thy touch!
For by the voice of woods and brooks,
        And flowers with virgin-fragrance wet,
And earnest Stars with yearning looks,
        I know that we shall mingle yet.

                     Sweet Spirit of my love!
Strange places on me smile, as thou
        Hadst pass'd, and left thy beauty's tints
The wild-flowers even the secret know,
        And light and shade flash mystic hints:
Meseems, like olden Gods, thou'lt come
        In cloud; but mine anointed eyes
Shall see the glory burn thro' gloom,
        And clasp thee, Sweet ! with large surprise.



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