246
FRAGMENTS.
O'er a sky as blue as her own blue eyes,
Borne by winds as perfumed and light as her sighs.
The zenith moon was shedding her light
In the silence and glory of deep midnight,
When the voice of singing was heard from afar,
Like the music that echoes a falling star;
And presently came gliding by
The Spirit of the melody:
A radiant shape, her long gold hair
Flew like a banner on the air,
Save one or two bright curls that fell
Like gems upon a neck whose swell
Rose like the dove's, when its mate's caress
Is smoothing the soft plumes in tenderness;
And one arm, white as the sea-spray,
Amid the chords of music lay.
