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MASTER of the murmuring courts | |
Where the shapes of sleep convene! | |
Lo! my spirit here exhorts | |
All the powers of thy demesne | |
For their aid to woo my queen. | 5 |
What reports | |
Yield thy jealous courts unseen? | |
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Vaporous unaccountable, | |
Dreamland lies forlorn of light, | |
Hollow like a breathing shell. | 10 |
Ah! that from all dreams I might | |
Choose one dream and guide its flight! | |
I know well | |
What her sleep should tell to-night. | |
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There the dreams are multitudes: | 15 |
Some whose buoyance waits not sleep, | |
Deep within the August woods; | |
Some that hum while rest may steep | |
Weary labour laid a-heap; | |
Interludes, | 20 |
Some, of grievous moods that weep. | |
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Poets fancies all are there: | |
There the elf-girls flood with wings | |
Valleys full of plaintive air; | |
There breathe perfumes; there in rings | 25 |
Whirl the foam-bewildered springs; | |
Siren there | |
Winds her dizzy hair and sings. | |
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Thence the one dream mutually | |
Dreamed in bridal unison, | 30 |
Less than waking ecstasy; | |
Half-formed visions that make moan | |
In the house of birth alone; | |
And what we | |
At deaths wicket see, unknown. | 35 |
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But for mine own sleep, it lies | |
In one gracious forms control, | |
Fair with honourable eyes, | |
Lamps of an auspicious soul: | |
O their glance is loftiest dole, | 40 |
Sweet and wise, | |
Wherein Love descries his goal. | |
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Reft of her, my dreams are all | |
Clammy trance that fears the sky: | |
Changing footpaths shift and fall; | 45 |
From polluted coverts nigh, | |
Miserable phantoms sigh; | |
Quakes the pall, | |
And the funeral goes by. | |
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Master, is it soothly said | 50 |
That, as echoes of mans speech | |
Far in secret clefts are made, | |
So do all mens bodies reach | |
Shadows oer thy sunken beach, | |
Shape or shade | 55 |
In those halls pourtrayed of each? | |
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Ah! might I, by thy good grace | |
Groping in the windy stair, | |
(Darkness and the breath of space | |
Like loud waters everywhere,) | 60 |
Meeting mine own image there | |
Face to face, | |
Send it from that place to her! | |
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Nay, not I; but oh! do thou, | |
Master, from thy shadowkind | 65 |
Call my bodys phantom now: | |
Bid it bear its face declind | |
Till its flight her slumbers find, | |
And her brow | |
Feel its presence bow like wind. | 70 |
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Where in groves the gracile Spring | |
Trembles, with mute orison | |
Confidently strengthening, | |
Waters voice and winds as one | |
Shed an echo in the sun. | 75 |
Soft as Spring | |
Master, bid it sing and moan. | |
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Song shall tell how glad and strong | |
Is the night she soothes alway; | |
Moan shall grieve with that parched tongue | 80 |
Of the brazen hours of day: | |
Sounds as of the springtide they, | |
Moan and song, | |
While the chill months long for May. | |
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Not the prayers which with all leave | 85 |
The worlds fluent woes prefer, | |
Not the praise the world doth give, | |
Dulcet fulsome whisperer; | |
Let it yield my love to her, | |
And achieve | 90 |
Strength that shall not grieve or err. | |
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Wheresoeer my dreams befall, | |
Both at night-watch (let it say,) | |
And where round the sundial | |
The reluctant hours of day, | 95 |
Heartless, hopeless of their way, | |
Rest and call; | |
There her glance doth fall and stay. | |
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Suddenly her face is there: | |
So do mounting vapours wreathe | 100 |
Subtle-scented transports where | |
The black firwood sets its teeth. | |
Part the boughs and look beneath, | |
Lilies share | |
Secret waters there, and breathe. | 105 |
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Master, bid my shadow bend | |
Whispering thus till birth of light, | |
Lest new shapes that sleep may send | |
Scatter all its work to flight; | |
Master, master of the night, | 110 |
Bid it spend | |
Speech, song, prayer, and end aright. | |
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Yet, ah me! if at her head | |
There another phantom lean | |
Murmuring oer the fragrant bed, | 115 |
Ah! and if my spirits queen | |
Smile those alien words between, | |
Ah! poor shade! | |
Shall it strive, or fade unseen? | |
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How should loves own messenger | 120 |
Strive with love and be loves foe? | |
Master, nay! If thus, in her, | |
Sleep a wedded heart should show, | |
Silent let mine image go, | |
Its old share | 125 |
Of thy sunken air to know. | |
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Like a vapour wan and mute, | |
Like a flame, so let it pass; | |
One low sigh across her lute, | |
One dull breath against her glass; | 130 |
And to my sad soul, alas! | |
One salute | |
Cold as when deaths foot shall pass. | |
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Then, too, let all hopes of mine, | |
All vain hopes by night and day, | 135 |
Slowly at thy summoning sign | |
Rise up pallid and obey. | |
Dreams, if this is thus, were they: | |
Be they thine, | |
And to dreamland pine away. | 140 |
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Yet from old time, life, not death, | |
Master, in thy rule is rife: | |
Lo! through thee, with mingling breath, | |
Adam woke beside his wife. | |
O Love bring me so, for strife, | 145 |
Force and faith, | |
Bring me so not death but life! | |
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Yea, to Love himself is pourd | |
This frail song of hope and fear. | |
Thou art Love, of one accord | 150 |
With kind Sleep to bring her near, | |
Still-eyed, deep-eyed, ah how dear! | |
Master, Lord, | |
In her name implord, O hear! | |
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