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George Meredith - Song (Untitled #6)
Work rating: Low

The flower unfolds its dawning cup, 
And the young sun drinks the star-dews up, 
At eve it droops with the bliss of day, 
And dreams in the midnight far away. 

So am I in thy sole, sweet glance 
Pressed with a weight of utterance; 
Lovingly all my leaves unfold, 
And gleam to the beams of thirsty gold. 

At eve I droop, for then the swell 
Of feeling falters forth farewell; - 
At midnight I am dreaming deep, 
Of what has been, in blissful sleep. 

When—ah! when will love`s own fight 
Wed me alike thro` day and night, 
When will the stars with their linking charms 
Wake us in each other`s arms?
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