O'er The Wood's Brow

O'er the wood's brow,
Pale, the moon stares;
In every bough
Wandering airs
Faintly suspire. . . .

O heart's-desire!

Two willow-trees
Waver and weep,
One in the breeze,
One in the deep
Glass of the stream. . . .

Dream we our dream!

An infinite
Resignedness
Rains where the white
Mists opalesce
In the moon-shower. . . .

Stay, perfect hour!