LXXXIX. Death is like the balmy night, Life is like the sultry day; It is dark, and I am sleepy. I am weary of the light. O'er my couch a tree doth spring In its boughs a nightingale Sings of love, of naught but love, In my dream I hear him sing. XC. "Tell me where's your lovely maiden, Whom you sang of erst so well, As a flame that through your bosom Pierced with rare, enchanted spell." Ah, that flame is long extinguished! And my heart is cold above. And this little book the urn is For the ashes of my love. SONGS TO SERAPHINE. SONGS TO SERAPHINE. I. In the dreamy wood I wander, In the wood at even-tide; And thy slender, graceful figure Wanders ever by my side. Is not this thy white veil floating? Is not that thy gentle face? Is it but the moonlight breaking Through the dark fir-branches' space? Can these tears so softly flowing Be my very own I hear? Or indeed, art thou beside me, Weeping, darling, close anear? II. Over all the quiet sea-shore Shadowing falls the hour of Hesper; Through the clouds the moon is breaking, And I hear the billows whisper. "Can that man who wanders yonder Be a lover or a dunce? For he seems so sad and merry, Sad and merry both at once." But the laughing moon looks downward, And she speaks, for she doth know it: "Yes, he is both fool and lover, And, to cap it all, a poet!" III. Behold! 'tis a foam-white sea-mew That flutters there on high. Far over the black night-waters The moon hangs up in the sky. The shark and the roach dart forward For breath as the breeze floats by. The sea-mew poises and plunges, The moon hangs up in the sky. Oh, lovely transient spirit, How heavy of heart am I! Too near to thee is the water, The moon hangs up in the sky. IV. In moonlit splendor rests the sea, The soft waves ripple along. My heart beats low and heavily, I think of the ancient song. The ancient song that quaintly sings Towns lost in olden times; And how from the sea's abyss there rings The sound of prayers and chimes. But pious prayers and chimes, I ween, Are offered all in vain. For that which once hath buried been May never come back again. V. I knew that thou must love me-- 'Twas long ago made clear. But thy confession filled me With deep and secret fear. I clambered up the mountain, And sang aloud for glee. Then while the sun was setting, I wept beside the sea. My heart is like the sun, dear, Yon kindled flame above; And sinks in large-orbed beauty Within a sea of love. VI. How enviously the sea-mew Looks after us, my dear; Because upon thy lips then So close I pressed mine ear. He fain would know what issued, Most curious of birds! If thou mine ear fulfillest With kisses or with words.