A VISION.
N ambient garment encircled her,Woven of mystic air,
And o'er her brow in beauty fell
Long threads of golden hair.
A net of cloud-wrought silver
Her tresses did ensnare,
And when I tried to touch her,
She vanished into air.
I sought her hand to clasp it—
Her spirit hand in mine,
For there it lay like a rosy shell
Seen through the frothy brine.
And sense entrancing odours
In mists encompassed were,
From flowers which had fainted
In giving their breath to her.
Her spirit hand in mine,
For there it lay like a rosy shell
Seen through the frothy brine.
And sense entrancing odours
In mists encompassed were,
From flowers which had fainted
In giving their breath to her.
