Poem by Gerald Massey

Love in Idleness

WE sit serenely 'neath the Night,
As still as stars, with swift delight;
In tears, that tell how in Life's deep
The hidden pearls of beauty sleep;
And silent, as of sleeping Seas,
And quiet, as of dreaming Trees:
The river of our bliss runs filled,
Its faintest happy murmur stilled.

Upon my forehead rests thy palm,
And on my spirit rests thy calm:
I cannot see thy face, but know
Its sea of rose-bloom hath a glow
Like ruby light: and richly lies
The dew and shadows in thine eyes;
That ask how they may soothliest bless,
Like crystal-wells of tenderness.

Warm fragrance, like the soul o' the South,
Is round thee; and thy damask mouth
Dissolves me in delicious death,
It doth so breathe ambrosial breath!
Musk-roses blowing in the gloom,
Drop fragrance fainting in the room;
And such fine sadness fills the air,
Ripe Life a bloom of dew doth wear.

We sit, with silent glory crowned,
And Love's arms wound in amorous round;
As on rich clouds of fragrance swim
The summer dusk, so cool, and dim!
While we our fields of pleasure reap
Our Babes lie in the wood of Sleep;
One—first love's dream of beauty wrought!
One—the more perfect after-thought!

The harping hand hath dulled the lyre
Of thrilling heart-strings.     By their fire
Droopt low, the dreamy Passions doze,
In large luxuriance of repose.
I only see—that thou art near;
I only feel—I have thee, Dear!
I only hear thy throbbing heart,
And know that we can never part.

1. The Chivalry of Labour
2. The People's Advent
3. Eden
4. This World is Full of Beauty
5. A Chaunt

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