Five Songs , opus 24

She was more fair than beauty,
More exquisite than light,
Sweet as a strain of music,
More perfect than delight.

And brighter than the rainbow,
And fresher than the dew,
Like honey were the numbers
Upon her lips that grew.

She was more mild than mercy,
She was more true than truth,
She was more firm than iron,
She was more young than youth;

Than piety more tender,
Than equity more straight,
Than branching palms more slender,
More resolute than fate.

She was more gay than morning,
She was more fresh than health,
She was more dear than kindness,
She was more rich than wealth.

She smote upon her harpstring,
She smote upon my heart:
Fair Dunstan!  Lo, this anvil
Is wax beneath thine art.

But I have lived before thee,
And I must live again:
Since life must curtain o'er thee,
Why swathe this soul in pain?

Oh, hide thee from my glances,
And vanish like a breath!
For to woo thee would be madness,
And to give thee up is death!

Fold, white arms, about me;
Cling, sweet lips to mine!
Sweetest sweet, without thee
I but waste and pine.

Lean, dear face, above me;
Soft hands, hold mine close;
Let me look and love thee,
O my very rose!

Comfort me with kisses
That your soul comes through;
Let the old dead blisses
Breathe and burn anew.

Lean upon my bosom
Till I feel yours beat,
And your mouth's sweet blossom
Passion make more sweet.

O my sweet one, sweetest,
Love of loves supreme,
This has been the fleetest,
Sweetest, bitterest dream.

Come in gently, and speak low,
Love lies a-dying;
By his death-bed, standing so,
Hush, hush your crying.

Once his eyes were full of light,
Who now lies a-dying;
Round about him falls the night,
Hush, hush your crying.

Ghostly winds begin to blow,
Love lies a-dying;
Hark where distant waters flow,
Hush, hush your crying.

From a Land of Lost Delight --
Now he lies a-dying --
Visions come to haunt his sight,
Hush, hush your crying.

From a land he used to know --
Love lies a-dying --
Ghosts of dead songs come and go,
Hush, hush your crying.

Perished hopes like lilies white --
Love lies a-dying --
Leave beside him, in Death's night,
Hush, hush your crying.

Round about him, to and fro --
Now he lies a-dying --
Phantom feet move soft and slow,
Hush, hush your crying.

Sharply once did sorrow bite, --
O Love lies a-dying! --
Tears and blood sprang warm and bright,
Hush, hush your crying.

Pain is done now; strength is low, --
Love lies a-dying, --
Let him gently languish so,
Hush, hush your crying.

Come not, when I am dead,
To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave,
To trample on my fallen head,
And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst not save.
There let the wind sweep and the plover cry;
But thou, go by.

Child, if it were thine error or thy crime
I care no longer, being all unblest:
Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of Time,
And I desire to rest.
Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie:
Go by, go by.

She is not fair to outward view
As many maidens be,
Her loveliness I never knew
Until she smil'd on me;
Oh! Then I saw her eye was bright,
A well of love, a spring of light.
But now her looks are coy and cold,
To mine they ne'er reply,
And yet I cease not to behold
The love-light in her eye:
Her very frowns are fairer far
Than smiles of other maidens are.