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--
And the Champak's odours
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart,
As I must on thine,
O beloved 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 white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast:
O press it to thine own again,
Where it will break at last
Also try this free pdf e-books:
Richard Alan Miller - The Magical And Ritual Use Of HerbsAleister Crowley - The Enochian Tablets And The Book Of The Law
Ea Wallis Budge - The Egyptian Heaven And Hell
