Thomas R. Lounsbury, ed. (1838–1915). Yale Book of American Verse. 1912.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 18071882
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow60 Endymion
T
Her level rays, like golden bars,
Lie on the landscape green,
With shadows brown between.
As if Diana, in her dreams, Had dropt her silver bow Upon the meadows low. She woke Endymion with a kiss, When, sleeping in the grove, He dreamed not of her love. Love gives itself, but is not bought; Nor voice, nor sound betrays Its deep, impassioned gaze. The crown of all humanity,— In silence and alone To seek the elected one. Are Life’s oblivion, the soul’s sleep, And kisses the closed eyes Of him who slumbering lies. O drooping souls, whose destinies Are fraught with fear and pain, Ye shall be loved again! No one so utterly desolate, But some heart, though unknown, Responds unto his own. An angel touched its quivering strings; And whispers, in its song, “Where hast thou stayed so long?”