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I was so lonely: and I heard the owl Moan like a lost soul in the desolate night, Out of yon forest: and I saw the moon, High up above the fir-trees on the hill, Struggle and struggle with a mass of clouds, Black but light-fringed, that every moment seemed Ready to whelm it like a lost Leander Seeking his Hero over blackening waves. Yet still it climbed the heavens. The night is dark, And all the world is dark but for your love. Ah! ‘tis a cruel world: it will not take The good that’s offered it, but flings it back Scornfully with a curse. ‘Tis very sad To see so much of darkness everywhere, And know men will not look nor seek the dawn. Yet all is brighter when you smile on me, And when the guiding beacon-light of love Falls on my face. Love comes to me as dew Upon the rose-bud: as the evening star To way-worn traveller: or the first sunbeam That springs across a land of April showers, Betwixt the sun and Calling a rainbow from the glooms above. So, Dearest, I was thinking yesterday,