To—— ("The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see")

  The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see
    The wantonest singing birds,

  Are lips—and all thy melody
    Of lip-begotten words—

  Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrined
    Then desolately fall,
  O God! on my funereal mind
    Like starlight on a pall—

  Thy heart—thy heart!—I wake and sigh,
    And sleep to dream till day
  Of the truth that gold can never buy—
    Of the baubles that it may.