The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme The witch of Shiloh, the last of the Wampanoags, the gentle earl, the enchanted voyage |
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 | The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme |  |
16
XIII
Such happiness to Esther fell.
She heard this gracious levite tell
His love, and plead to win her own;
She sate on love's imperial throne,
A queen of love; but ah, how meek!
What humble tears upon her cheek!
She spoke; the lips would scarcely part;
The words were sobs, but gave a heart.
So they were plighted, sweetly sworn
As one to joy, as one to mourn,
As one to tread the pilgrim's path
And fly the city doomed to wrath,
As one to seek the Joyous Heights
And Beulah's shades and Eden's lights.
She heard this gracious levite tell
His love, and plead to win her own;
She sate on love's imperial throne,
A queen of love; but ah, how meek!
What humble tears upon her cheek!
She spoke; the lips would scarcely part;
The words were sobs, but gave a heart.
So they were plighted, sweetly sworn
As one to joy, as one to mourn,
As one to tread the pilgrim's path
And fly the city doomed to wrath,
As one to seek the Joyous Heights
And Beulah's shades and Eden's lights.
Their voices mingled in the psalms,
They mingled in the sighs of prayer
They interchanged the precious balms
That angels fling through earthly air;
Wing interlocked with wing they flew
Above the birthplace of the dew
To where—. Ah, realm of mysteries,
Too high, too pure, for sinful eyes!
The mortal glance must turn away,
The worldly songster check his lay.
They mingled in the sighs of prayer
They interchanged the precious balms
That angels fling through earthly air;
Wing interlocked with wing they flew
Above the birthplace of the dew
To where—. Ah, realm of mysteries,
Too high, too pure, for sinful eyes!
The mortal glance must turn away,
The worldly songster check his lay.
| The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme | |