Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art -- Not in lone splendor hung aloft the night And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature's patient, sleepless eremite, The moving waters at their priest-like task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores, Or gazing on the new soft fallen mask Of snow upon the mountains and the moors -- No -- yet still steadfast, still unchangeable, Pillowed upon my fair love's ripening breast, To feel forever its soft fall and swell, Awake forever in a sweet unrest, Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, And so live ever -- or else swoon to death.