To Miss ....... On Her Asking The Author Why She Had Sleepless Nights.
By Thomas Moore
I'll ask the sylph who round thee flies, And in thy breath his pinion dips, Who suns him in thy radiant eyes, And faints upon thy sighing lips: I'll ask him where's the veil of sleep That used to shade thy looks of light; And why those eyes their vigil keep When other suns are sunk in night? And I will say--her angel breast Has never throbbed with guilty sting; Her bosom is the sweetest nest Where Slumber could repose his wing! And I will say--her cheeks that flush, Like vernal roses in the sun, Have ne'er by shame been taught to blush, Except for what her eyes have done! Then tell me, why, thou child of air! Does slumber from her eyelids rove? What is her heart's impassioned care? Perhaps, oh sylph! perhaps, 'tis love.
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"I'll ask the sylph who round thee flies,..."
This evocative piece by Thomas Moore, titled "To Miss ....... On Her Asking The Author Why She Had Sleepless Nights.", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...