alfred tennyson,lord tennyson
maud
come into the garden,maud,
for the black bat,night,has flown,
come into the garden,maud,
i am here at the gate alone;and the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,
and the musk of the roses blown.
for a breeze of morning moves,
and the planet of love ** on high,
beginning to faint in the light that she loves
on a bed of daffodil sky,
to faint in the light of the sun she loves,
to faint in h** light,and to die.
all night h**e the roses heard
the flute,violin,bassoon;all night has the casement jessamine stirr'd
to the dancers dancing in tune;till a silence fell with the waking bird,
and a hush with the setting moon.
i said to the lily,'there ** but one
with whom she has heart to be gay.
when will the dancers le**e her alone?she ** weary of dance and play.'
now half to the setting moon are gone,
and half to the r**ing day;low on the sand and loud on the stone
the last wheel echoes away.
i said to the rose,'the brief night goes
in babble and revel and wine.
o young lord-lover,what sighs are those
for one that will never be thine?but mine,but mine,' so i sware to the rose,
'for ever and ever,mine.'
and the soul of the rose went into my blood,
as the music clash'd in the hall;and long by the garden lake i stood,
for i heard your rivulet fall
from the lake to the meadow and on to the wood,
our wood,that ** dearer than all;from the meadow your walks h**e left so sweet
that whenever a march-wind sighs
he sets the jewel-print of your feet
in violets blue as your eyes,
to the woody hollows in which we meet
and the valleys of parad**e.
the slender acacia would not shake
one long milk-bloom on the tree;the white lake-blossom fell into the lake,
as the pimpernel dozed on the lea;but the rose was awake all night for your sake,
knowing your prom**e to me;the lilies and roses were all awake,
they sigh'd for the dawn and thee.
queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls,
come hither,the dances are done,
in gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls,
queen lily and rose in one;shine out,little head,sunning over with curls.
to the flowers,and be their sun.
there has fallen a splendid tear
from the passion-flower at the gate.
she ** coming,my dove,my dear;she ** coming,my life,my fate;the red rose cries,'she ** near,she ** near;'
and the white rose weeps,'she ** late;'
the larkspur l**tens,'i hear,i hear;'
and the lily wh**pers,'i wait.'
she ** coming,my own,my sweet;were it ever so airy a tread,
my heart would hear her and beat,
were it earth in an earthy bed;my dust would hear her and beat,
had i lain for a century dead;would start and tremble under her feet,
and blossom in purple and red.