Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art - Wikipedia - pillow d upon my fair loves ripening breast

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pillow d upon my fair loves ripening breast


Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever--or else swoon to death.

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors— No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever—or else swoon to death. More About this Poem.

Bright star, would I. were stedfast as thou art. Not in lone. Splendour hung aloft the night. And watching, with eternal lids apart. Like nature's patient, sweet Eremite. The moving waters. at their priestlike task. of pure ablution. around Earth's human shores. or gazing on. the new soft-fallen mask. of snow upon.

Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast, Ahh, that does sound better. Now the speaker starts making a bit more sense: sure, he'd love to be as "stedfast" as the star, but he isn't jazzed about sitting up in the high heavens taking in all those dreary sights.

Of snow upon the mountains and the moors— No—yet still steadfast, still unchangeable, Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast, To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever—or else swoon to death.