Page:Poems of Sentiment and Imagination.djvu/210

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Then the shadow and the whisper
Thrill my soul with mystery!

When the summer day is breaking,
And the earth is slowly waking—
When I throw the shutter open
To the morning fresh and fair,
And the spray doth bend before me,
Dashing shining dew-drops o'er me,
While the little leaves a-laughing,
Clap their bright hands in the air,
As the perfumed shower of jewels
Sparkles in my unbound hair.

Oh! I know no monarch olden
Wore a crown so brightly golden
Nor a robe so richly crimson
As the tree that loves me wore,
When the air was bright and dreaming,
And the heavens were blue and gleaming
In the glorious days of autumn,
That, alas, are now no more!
Then its murmur grew so mournful
As the sunny hours passed o'er.

Therefore, as my wayward spirit
Is forever blessed when near it,
As it seems to know and love me,
And is so beloved by me—
As its every whisper thrills me
And its midnight shadow fills me
With a thought of mystery—
Do I think some angel mission
Hovers ever in that tree!