O' Reverie
Upon a peculiar summer night,
When the moon’s freckled grin
Yet possessed a wrinkle,
I wandered forthwith, into the solitude
Brushing upon the forest’s edge.
Through strangled brush and crowing groves;
Upon twisted soil and mossen branches,
My aching feet beckoned inward,
Until nature’s course revealed to me
Your river – pierced upon reflection
Of the moon’s sparkled tears.
Her sorrowful eyes as I wept
Burnt my heart in narrow affliction;
Though fellow men had possessed her,
None had addressed her somber glow
Upon the writhing hemlocks.
Rather, they loved her from afar
In hollow stone castles
Hung above the whistling leaves,
Crowding the black horizon
In shadows tapering their shade.
O’ Reverie, said I upon her,
Has my love no home in this garden?
Lo!
Lo, behold my love!
Of my sparkling reflection,
Sing to me in silence my love!
Where the moonlit howls
Upon this stream form me,
Be there,
Be there my love.
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