Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice! And all who heard should see them there, And close your eyes with holy dread : For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drank the milk of Paradise. THE PAINS OF SLEEP. ERE on my bed my limbs I lay, It hath not been my use to pray In humble Trust mine eye-lids close, With reverential resignation, No wish conceived, no thought expressed! Only a sense of supplication, A sense o'er all my soul imprest But yester-night I pray'd aloud In anguish and in agony, Up-starting from the fiendish crowd Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me : And whom I scorn'd, those only strong! |