Ambergris

AMBERGRIS 23 FROM MYSTERIES Beside the River Rain, rain in May. The river sadly flows, A sullen silver crossed with sable bars, Damp, gloomy, shivering, while reluctant stars, Between swart masses of thick clouds that close, Drive with drooped plumes their wing’d cars Towards sleep, the scythe of woes. Woes, woes in Spring. Ere summer deepeneth The pink of roses to a purpler tint ; Ere ripening corn shafts back the sudden glint Of sunshine that brings healing with the breath Of western winds that sign, they hint Of sleep, twin soul with death. Death, death ere dawn. The night is over dark ; Trees are grown terrible ; the shadows wan Make shudder all the tense desires of man ; No gleam of moonlight bears the golden mark Of sunny lips, nor shines upon Our sleep—Love’s birchen bark. Love, love to-night. To-night is all we know, Is all our care ; lips joined to lips we lie, Tender hands touching, hearts in tune to die, With willing kiss reluctant to let go ; So sweet love’s last enduring sigh For sleep, so sure, so slow. Sleep, sleep to-night. Our arms are intertwined ; Breath desires breath and hand imprisons hand ; Breezes cool faces, rosy with the brand Of long sweet kisses ; sun shall dawn and find Two lovers who have passed the land Of sleep—and found Death kind.