Hesperus

Down in the street the last late hansoms go Still westward, but with backward eyes of red The harlot shuffles to her lonely bed; The tall policeman pauses but to throw A flash into the empty portico; Then he too passes, and his lonely tread Links all the long-drawn gas-lights on a thread And ties them to one planet swinging low.

O Hesperus! O happy star! to bend O'er Helen's bosom in the trancèd west-- To watch the hours heave by upon her breast And at her parted lip for dreams attend: If dawn defraud thee, how shall I be deem'd. Who house within that bosom, and am dreamed?