The rising moon has hid the stars; <br />Her level rays, like golden bars, <br /> Lie on the landscape green, <br /> With shadows brown between. <br /> <br />And silver white the river gleams, <br />As if Diana, in her dreams, <br /> Had dropt her silver bow <br /> Upon the meadows low. <br /> <br />On such a tranquil night as this, <br />She woke Endymion with a kiss, <br /> When, sleeping in the grove, <br /> He dreamed not of her love. <br /> <br />Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought, <br />Love gives itself, but is not bought; <br /> Nor voice, nor sound betrays <br /> Its deep, impassioned gaze. <br /> <br />It comes,--the beautiful, the free, <br />The crown of all humanity,-- <br /> In silence and alone <br /> To seek the elected one. <br /> <br />It lifts the boughs, whose shadows deep <br />Are Life's oblivion, the soul's sleep, <br /> And kisses the closed eyes <br /> Of him, who slumbering lies. <br /> <br />O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes! <br />O drooping souls, whose destinies <br /> Are fraught with fear and pain, <br /> Ye shall be loved again! <br /> <br />No one is so accursed by fate, <br />No one so utterly desolate, <br /> But some heart, though unknown, <br /> Responds unto his own. <br /> <br />Responds,--as if with unseen wings, <br />An angel touched its quivering strings; <br /> And whispers, in its song, <br /> "'Where hast thou stayed so long?"<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/endymion-2/
