[At Twilight] A Sonnet on Love (From the French of Claudius Popelin)

    CLOSE thine eyes, O close thine eyes, my charming dove,
        O close thine eyes, thine eyes so large, thine eyes so kind,
        And gently lean thy breast upon my breast, and wind
    Around thy golden dreams, thy robe of satin, Love.

    ‘Tis growing late; the sun is low; the shades increase,
        The gentle night that loves all lovers comes to us,
        So softly, softly sleep and linger dreaming thus,
    And I will guard thy flocks of dreams, upon my knees.

    And thou wilt sleep beneath mine eyes, reclining there;
    Already gentle zephyrs steal within the air,
        And shining stars of love are moving in the skies.

    Bye on! Sleep on! untiring I will watch thy sleep,
    For long, for long, and see the golden dreams that creep
        Quietly o’er thy moonlit face, with loving eyes.

                                                              MAURICE JOY