Explore "Last Sonnet" by Alice Meynell on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
BRIGHT Star! would I were steadfast as thou art-
Not in lone splendour 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 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.