Frederick Locker-Lampson (1821–1895)

BEATING Heart! we come again

Where my Love reposes:

This is Mabel’s window-pane;

These are Mabel’s roses.

Is she nested? Does she kneel

In the twilight stilly,

Lily clad from throat to heel,

She, my virgin Lily?

Soon the wan, the wistful stars,

Fading, will forsake her;

Elves of light, on beamy bars,

Whisper then, and wake her.

Let this friendly pebble plead

At her flowery grating;

If she hear me will she heed?

Mabel, I am waiting!

Mabel will be deck’d anon,

Zoned in bride’s apparel;

Happy zone! O hark to yon

Passion-shaken carol!

Sing thy song, thou trancèd thrush,

Pipe thy best, thy clearest;—

Hush, her lattice moves, O hush—

Dearest Mabel!—dearest …