The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme :: :: University of Virginia Library

That dower a beauteous damozel.
Fair, too, was Esther, passing fair,
With faintly flusht carnelian skin,
And floods of sunlight through her hair,
And eyes revealing Heaven within.

And many loved them, many came
To bow before their dawn of charms:
High-stepping squires of county fame
For spacious homes and fruitful farms;
Some worshipping the holy skies
That Esther's lashes drooped above;
Some dazzled by those gipsy eyes
That seemed to promise storms of love.

And there was one, the favored one,
The largest, richest soul of all,
Whose lyric accents deftly spun
Round human hearts a wizard thrall;
Whose eloquence had tones sublime,
That startled while they lured the soul,
Like some resounding churchly chime
A-swing betwixt delight and dole;
Or, choosing thus, could swiftly wake
The stormy throbs of fervid blood,
And cause the waves of love to break
On all the shores of womanhood.

No squire was he of carnal mould,
With burly frame and beefy hand,
Attired in velvet, lace and gold
And boasting miles of fenced land.
The pastor of the fold he was,
Where Yesebel and Esther bowed

Beneath the glare of Sinai's laws,
Or saw the bow behind the cloud.
He looked a very Nazarite,
Assured to holiness from birth,
A spirit clothed in saintly white,
Almost a visitant on earth.
And many, gazing on his face
And groping for the soul within,
Believed him born a child of grace,
Who never knew the load of sin.

Such was Apollos Himmelstone,
A flower of starry gardens, sown
As though by angels, here below,
To show how Eden's roses blow.