Public Domain Poetry And Stories - Falerina. by Madison Julius Cawein
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Falerina.

    By Madison Julius Cawein



    The night is hung above us, love,
    With heavy stars that love us, love,
    With clouds that curl in purple and pearl,
    And winds that whisper of us, love:
    On burly hills and valleys, that lie dimmer,
    The amber foot-falls of the moon-sylphs glimmer.

    The moon is still a crescent, love;
    And here with thee 'tis pleasant, love,
    To sit and dream in its thin gleam,
    And list thy sighs liquescent, love:
    To see thy eyes and fondle thy dark tresses,
    Set on warm lips imperishable kisses.

    The sudden-glaring fire-flies
    Swim o'er the hollow gyre-wise,
    And spurt and shine like jostled wine
    At lips on which desire lies:
    Or like the out-flashed hair of elf or fairy
    In rapid morrice whirling feat and airy.

    Up, - all the blue West sundering, -
    A creamy cloud comes blundering
    O'er star and steep, and opening deep
    Grows gold with silent thundering:
    Gold flooding crystal crags immeasurable,
    Lost Avalons of old Romance and Fable.

    The bee dreams in the cherry bloom
    That sways above the berry bloom;
    The katydid grates where she's hid
    In leafy deeps of dreary gloom:
    The forming dew is globing on the grasses,
    Like rich spilled gems of some dark queen that passes.

    The mere brief gusts are wrinkling;
    A thousand ripples twinkling
    Have caught the stars on polished spars
    Their rustling ridges sprinkling:
    And all the shadow lurking in its bosom
    Is touched and bursten into golden blossom.

    Stoop! and my being flatter, love;
    With sudden starlight scatter, love,
    From the starry grace of thy rare face,
    Whose might can make or shatter, love!
    Come, raiment love in love's own radiant garments.
    And kindle all my soul to rapturous torments!

    Bow all thy beauty to me, love,
    Lips, eyes, and hair to woo me, love,
    As bows and blows some satin rose
    Snow-soft and tame, that knew thee, love.
    Unto the common grass, that worshiping cowers,
    Dowering its love with all her musk of flowers.




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