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Title: Nocturne
Author: Charles G. D. Roberts [
More Titles by Roberts]
Soothe, soothe
The day-fall, soothe,
Till wrinkling winds and seas are smooth,--
Till yon low band
Of charméd strand
Puff seaward dreams from the inner land,--
Till, lapped in mild half-lights, our dream-blown boat
Is felt to float, to fall, to float.
A sundown rose
Delays and glows
O'er yon spired peak's remoter snows.
Uprolling soon
A red-ripe moon
Lolls in the pines in drowsed half-swoon;
And thin moon-shades pace out to us, and shift
Our visions as we drift, and drift.
From night-wide blooms
In coppice glooms
Set outward voyaging spice perfumes.
The slow-pulsed seas,
The shadowed trees,--
The night-spell holds us one with these,
Till, Love, we scarce know life from sleep,--we seem
To smile a little, dream, and dream.
[The end]
Charles G. D. Roberts's poem: Nocturne
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