Some Things Love Me

Thomas_Buchanan_Read
Thomas Buchanan Read

All within and all without me
Feel a melancholy thrill;
And the darkness hangs about me,
Oh, how still;
To my feet, the river glideth
Through the shadow, sullen, dark;
On the stream the white moon rideth,
Like a barque—
And the linden leans above me,
Till I think some things there be
In the dreary world that love me,
Even me!

Gentle buds are blooming near me,
Shedding sweetest breath around;
Countless voices rise, to cheer me,
From the ground;
And the lone bird comes—I hear it
In the tall and windy pine
Pour the sadness of its spirit
Into mine;
There it swings and sings above me,
Till I think some things there be
In this dreary world that love me,
Even me!

Now the moon hath floated to me,
On the stream I see it sway,
Swinging, boat-like, as ‘t would woo me
Far away—
And the stars bend from the azure,
I could reach them where I lie,
And they whisper all the pleasure
Of the sky.
There they hang and smile above me,
Till I think some things there be
In the very heavens that love me,
Even me!

Thomas Buchanan Read, 1822–1872

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