Dejection: An Ode, Part VIII
‘Tis midnight, but small thoughts have I of sleep: Full seldom may my friend such vigils keep! Visit her, gentle Sleep! with wings of healing, And may this storm be but a mountain-birth, May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling, Silent as though they watched the sleeping Earth! With light heart may she rise, Gay fancy, cheerful eyes, Joy lift her spirit, joy attune her voice; To her...
At midnight by the stream I roved, To forget the one I loved. Image of Lewti! from my mind Depart; for Lewti is not kind. The Moon was high, the moonlight gleam And the shadow of a star Heaved upon Tamaha’s stream; But the rock shone brighter far, The rock half sheltered form my view By pendent boughs of tressy yew.— So shines my Lewti’s forehead fair, Gleaming through her sable hair....
When I say, ‘I love you,’ it’s not because I want you or because I can’t have...– Joss Whedon (via larmoyante)