Ah, from your pillowed dreaming,
Give me but half an ear!
Now, while my lute is thrumming,
Sleep on—what would you more?
Now, with my lute-song blending,
The starry legions pour
Blessings on love unending;
Sleep on—what would you more?
This breath of love unending
Lifts me now high and clear
From earth’s tumultuous grinding:
Sleep on—what would you more?
On earth’s tumultuous straining
Too well you’d shut my door;
I’m banished, chill, complaining—
Sleep on—what would you more?
I’m banished, chill, unblooming,
But in your dream, give ear:
Might I thy pillowed dreaming
Sleep too—what would you more?
1804