University of Virginia Library

THE STEP ON THE STAIRS.

Thy step is on the stairs when evening falls,
When like a sacred sea the silence grows,
In mighty waves that murmur on the walls,
And faintly echo unto calls;
Ah, then thy balmy breath upon me blows,
And through the portals of the twilight flows,
Deep in the stillness of the shadowy halls,
With flowers of speech unfolding as a rose.
Thy hand is gentle in the hush of sleep,
Which broods at night and fondly wraps me round,
With raiment woven of soft scent and sound;
I feel thy touch when dawn's dim tokens peep,
And when about me twines the vision deep,
'Tis in thy arms I am so sweetly wound.