The Court Journal, 19th September 1835, page 645
THE PHANTOM, By L. E. L.
[The following fanciful production is from the 'Drawing Scrap Book,' which we partially noticed a fortnight ago. Its treasures cannot yet be so far familiarized and fixed in the memory, as to preclude us from the advantage of filling one of our columns with the verses of L. E. L.. The plates of this year's volume are as various and well executed as usual; and the poetry more than reflects their beauty and variety. The poem we here copy is remarkable for the ease, grace, and melody of its versification.]
I come from my home in the depth of the sea,
I come that thy dreams may be haunted by me;
Not as we parted, the rose on my brow,
But shadowy, silent, I visit thee now.
The time of our parting was when the moon shone,
Of all heaven's daughters the loveliest one;
No cloud in her presence, no star at her side,
She smiled on her mirror and vassal, the tide.
Unbroken its silver, undreamed of its swell,
There was hope, and not fear, in our midnight farewell;
While drooping around were the wings white and wild,
Of the ship that was sleeping, as slumbers a child.
I turned to look from it, to look on the bower,
Which thou hast been training in sunshine or shower—
So thick were the green leaves, the sun and the rain
Sought to pierce through the shelter from summer in vain.
