There is some secret stirring in the world,
A thought that seeks impatiently its word.
If there were dreams to sell, what would you buy?
Thomas Lovell BeddoesMots clés dream
The anchor heaves, the ship swings free
The sails swell full. To sea, to sea!
Love? Do I love? I walk
Within the brilliance of another's thought,
As in a glory. I was dark before,
as Venus' chapel in the black of night:
But there was something holy in the darkness,
Softer and not so thick as the other where;
And as rich moonlight may be to the blind,
Unconsciously consoling. Then love came,
Like the out-bursting of a trodden star.
Mots clés love
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