The Yellow Book/Volume 6/A Madrigal

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For other versions of this work, see A Madrigal (Custance).

A Madrigal


Ah! leave my soul like forest pool
In shadow smiling unafraid—
Let not thy laughter stir its cool
Clear depths, sweet maid,
Let not, I pray, thy sunlike hair
Pierce to the thoughts that slumber there!


My soul is still as summer noon—
Its inmost shrines are full of sleep;
But when the stars of dreamland swoon
'Twill wake and weep;
The dawn of Love that brings thy blue
Bright eyes, will bring a sorrow too!


My soul is silent—trouble not
Its secret reveries with thy songs.
The rare red tint thy lips have got!
The whole world longs
To kiss them—therefore speak not, dear;
My soul must struggle, should it hear.
*****

I see thee, and my soul is swung
In golden trances of delight ;
I hear thee, and my tremulous tongue
Hurls forth a flight
Of bird-like songs, saluting thee.
Oh, come and dwell and dream with me.