Amadis And Oriana

O sunset, from the springs of stars

Draw down thy cataracts of gold;

And belt their streams with burning bars

Of ruby on which flame is rolled:

Drench dingles with laburnum light;

Drown every vale in violet blaze:

Rain rose-light down; and, poppy-bright,

Die downward o'er the hills of haze,

And bring at last the stars of night!

The stars and moon! that silver world,

Which, like a spirit, faces west,

Her foam-white feet with light empearled,

Bearing white flame within her breast:

Earth's sister sphere of fire and snow,

Who shows to Earth her heart's pale heat,

And bids her mark its pulses glow,

And hear their crystal currents beat

With beauty, lighting all below.

O cricket, with thy elfin pipe,

That tinkles in the grass and grain;

And dove-pale buds, that, dropping, stripe

The glen's blue night, and smell of rain;

O nightingale, that so dost wail

On yonder blossoming branch of snow,

Thrill, fill the wild deer-haunted dale,

Where Oriana, walking slow,

Comes, thro' the moonlight, dreamy pale.

She comes to meet me! - Earth and air

Grow radiant with another light.

In her dark eyes and her dark hair

Are all the stars and all the night:

She comes! I clasp her! - and it is

As if no grief had ever been. -

In all the world for us who kiss

There are no other women or men

But Oriana and Amadis.