Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white

Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white



Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk



Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font



The fire-fly wakens; waken thou with me



Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost



And like a ghost she glimmers on to me

Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars





And all thy heart lies open unto me

Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves



A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me





Now folds the lilly all her sweetness up
And slips into the bosom of the lake



So fold thyself, my dearest, thou and slip





Into my bosom and be lost in me.

(Poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.)