IX Midsummer in Winter
Winter night, the streets forsaken,
Ice-king holds the world in thrall;
Sudden gusts of wind awaken
Eerie sounds, the walls are shaken
By the wild, rebellious call.
Gay as gods we have been dining,
All alone, just you and I.
Light the candles, let their shining
Drive out darkness and repining,
Perfect joy is nigh.
Draw the blinds, the shutters tighten!
Safely screened from prying eyes,
Take the cup and pledge me! brighten
Winter-gloom with song, and lighten
Darkness with sweet harmonies.
Sing of woods, or sing the wonder
Of the sea, serene and bland;
Or the sea, that lashed asunder
Breaks in crashing peals of thunder
On the foam-flecked sand.
Like a great enchanted river,
Full of witchcraft is your voice;
See my pelargoniums quiver
Like a leafy wood a-shiver
In the breeze when daylight dies.
On my screen, her ensign flying,
Leaps a brig with white sails set;
Snugly on the hearthrug lying
Silky fur with sable vying,
Sleeps your Persian cat.
In the mirror’s clear perspective
I can see our little home;
Wrapped in dreams, my introspective
Humour conjures up affective
Scenes of past joys, joys to come.
On the desk where I was writing
Falls the candle’s mellow glow;
Falls on virgin sheets, exciting
Rose-warm blushes, softly lighting
Their unblemished snow.
In your chamber’s sweet seclusion,
Hung with green, a vernal nook,
I can glimpse a wild confusion—
Tangled skeins in rank profusion
Cover work and household book.
In the glass our eyes are meeting;
Flashing blue, like tempered steel
Are your glances, but a fleeting
Smile from tender lips in greeting,
Tells me that your heart is leal.
Radiant brow, my soul entrancing,
Puts the candle-light to shame;
From your jewels flashing, dancing
Sparks are flying and enhancing
Long-lashed eyes’ alluring flame.
Hush! the bell disturbs the slumber
Of the house—the postman’s ring!
Let him be! His dreary lumber
Shall not darken and encumber
Love’s eternal spring.
Letter-box holds proofs and letters
Safely under lock and key;
Sing and play! Till morn unfetters
These officious care-begetters
Love our guerdon be.
Sing, beloved, my soul’s desire!
World holds, naught but you and me;
Sing with lips no love can tire,
Sing of passion’s quenchless fire,
Fill the night with ecstasy!