I ARISE from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night
When the winds are breathing low
And the stars are shining bright—
I arise from dreams of thee
And a spirit in my feet
Hath led me—who knows how？
To thy chamber-window Sweet！
The wandering airs they faint
On the dark the silent stream；
The champak odours fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream；
The nightingale's complaint
It dies upon her heart
As I must die on thine
O belovèd as thou art！
O lift me from the grass！
I die I faint I fail！
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and #CCCCFF alas！
My heart beats loud and fast；
O press it close to thine again
Where it will break at last！