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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.  The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes.  1917.
 
The Indian Serenade
By Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822)
 
I ARISE from dreams of thee
  In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
  And the stars are shining bright;
I arise from dreams of thee,        5
  And a spirit in my feet
Hath led me—who knows how!—
  To thy chamber window, Sweet!
 
The wandering airs they faint
  On the dark, the silent stream—        10
And the Champak odors fail
  Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale’s complaint,
  It dies upon her heart—
As I must on thine,        15
  O belovèd as thou art!
 
Oh, lift me from the grass!
  I die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
  On my lips and eyelids pale.        20
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
  My heart beats loud and fast;—
Oh, press it to thine own again,
  Where it will break at last!
 
 
CONTENTS · GENERAL INDEX · SONGS & LYRICS · BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY
READER’S DIGEST · STUDENT’S COURSE · BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD
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