Song for an Unwritten Play.

The moon's a drowsy fool to-night,

Wrapped in fleecy clouds and white;

And all the while Endymion

Sleeps on Latmos top alone.

Not a single star is seen:

They are gathered round their queen,

Keeping vigil by her bed,

Patient and unwearied.

Now the poet drops his pen

And moves about like other men:

Tom o’ Bedlam now is still

And sleeps beneath the hawthorn'd hill.

Only the Latmian shepherd deems

Something missing from his dreams

And tosses as he sleeps alone.

Alas, alas, Endymion!