THE IDEAL
To Her, when life was little worth,When hope, a tide run low,Between dim shores of emptinessAlmost forgot to flow,—Faint with the city’s fume and stressI came at night to Her.Her cool white fingers on my face—How wonderful they were!More dear they were to fevered lidsThan lilies cooled in dew.They touched my lips with tenderness,Till life was born anew.The city’s clamour died in calm;And once again I heardThe moon-white woodland stillnessesEnchanted by a bird;The wash of far, remembered waves;The sigh of lapsing streams;And one old garden’s lilac leavesConferring in their dreams.A breath from childhood daisy fieldsCame back to me again,Here in the city’s weary milesOf city-wearied men.
To Her, when life was little worth,When hope, a tide run low,Between dim shores of emptinessAlmost forgot to flow,—Faint with the city’s fume and stressI came at night to Her.Her cool white fingers on my face—How wonderful they were!More dear they were to fevered lidsThan lilies cooled in dew.They touched my lips with tenderness,Till life was born anew.The city’s clamour died in calm;And once again I heardThe moon-white woodland stillnessesEnchanted by a bird;The wash of far, remembered waves;The sigh of lapsing streams;And one old garden’s lilac leavesConferring in their dreams.A breath from childhood daisy fieldsCame back to me again,Here in the city’s weary milesOf city-wearied men.
To Her, when life was little worth,When hope, a tide run low,Between dim shores of emptinessAlmost forgot to flow,—
To Her, when life was little worth,
When hope, a tide run low,
Between dim shores of emptiness
Almost forgot to flow,—
Faint with the city’s fume and stressI came at night to Her.Her cool white fingers on my face—How wonderful they were!
Faint with the city’s fume and stress
I came at night to Her.
Her cool white fingers on my face—
How wonderful they were!
More dear they were to fevered lidsThan lilies cooled in dew.They touched my lips with tenderness,Till life was born anew.
More dear they were to fevered lids
Than lilies cooled in dew.
They touched my lips with tenderness,
Till life was born anew.
The city’s clamour died in calm;And once again I heardThe moon-white woodland stillnessesEnchanted by a bird;
The city’s clamour died in calm;
And once again I heard
The moon-white woodland stillnesses
Enchanted by a bird;
The wash of far, remembered waves;The sigh of lapsing streams;And one old garden’s lilac leavesConferring in their dreams.
The wash of far, remembered waves;
The sigh of lapsing streams;
And one old garden’s lilac leaves
Conferring in their dreams.
A breath from childhood daisy fieldsCame back to me again,Here in the city’s weary milesOf city-wearied men.
A breath from childhood daisy fields
Came back to me again,
Here in the city’s weary miles
Of city-wearied men.