Page:Poems of Sentiment and Imagination.djvu/175

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THE POET LOVERS.
171

Has lingered o'er the harp, till its rich swell
Brought round us of thy dreams a lovely band.
I have so learned the witchery of thy lyre.
That I can read thy every wordless thought,
As it melts softly from the silver wire.
With the deep eloquence of music fraught.

"Adel! Adel! how shall I thank my God,
That He hath given such a rich gift to me?
Thy very perfectness my soul hath awed—
So blend rare gifts and loveliness in thee!
Thou art my soul's sweet, starry, radiant light!
Thou art the life of its impassioned dream!
I've seen thee ever when I slept at night—
A part of my past life thy love doth seem.

"Though but a few sweet months since we have met.
It is long years since a fair vision stole.
With deep, soft eyes, which I could not forget.
Into the inner chamber of my soul;
And with a spiritual smile on her young face,
Began low music from a lyre to start,
And thrilled my heart with her exceeding grace.
And thenceforth of my being was a part.

"She had a brow like thine—such rich, brown hair—
And just such eyes—so fathomless and soft,
And such a drooping of their curtains fair.
And such a changing color had they oft.
She had such lips—as freshly sweet were they—
As tremulous with eloquence unexpressed!
And such a low, sweet voice, and winning way,
And cheek whose color never was at rest.

"When I saw thee, in all thy breathing grace.
Stand with clasped hands by the fair river-side,
And caught the look upon thy upturned face,
I knew—I knew thou wert my spirit-bride!