University of Virginia Library

IN ANGELLO CUM LIBELLO.

There my little book and I,
There we lay in shelter,
Roses made our scarlet sky,
Far from working welter;
Oh, the pretty book, it lay
Lightly on my bosom,

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Bound in sweetest silk, and gay
As the rose's blossom;
Tenderly the lines I read
And between, in quiet
Bending low my loving head
To the dainty diet;
I had known the volume well,
Learned the fairy pages
Speaking in one master spell
Joys of all the ages;
Reverently I each grace
Marked, as was my duty,
Finding in each silent space
Some new secret beauty;
Thus I clasped those thrilling charms,—
In angello,
Cum libello,
Though the world might brawl and bellow—
In my arms.
There my little book and I
Bathed in sweet blue weather,
As the busy wind went by
Laughing to the heather;
Every leaf I knew by heart,
In my memory printed,
Lines that miracles of art
Flashed, and lines but hinted;
Never yet from classic press
Did a volume issue.
Clothed in such a dazzling dress,
Woven of tender tissue;
Never was a truer type
Set in living letters,
One with all enchantments ripe,
Forging welcome fetters;
Never, framed to soothe and serve
Passion's ardent story,
Fetched a fairer brighter curve
Characters of glory;
Thus I weighed each subtle tone,—
In angello,
Cum libello
Jealous as the worst Othello,
And alone.
There my little book and I
With each other nestled,

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Fastened with the golden tie
For which love had wrestled;
Holding it with fervent hand,
Treasure of my finding
In the world of fairy-land,
Oft I praised the binding;
Glow of darling white and pink,
Wealth of wondrous cover,
Each alluring look and link
Meant to chain a lover;
Breast that only to my gaze
Half revealed the rapture,
All removed, when my amaze
Held it as a capture;
Words that would invite a kiss,
With melodious sentence,
And to make more perfect bliss
Then required repentance;
Wit I drank from dewy lips,—
In angello,
Cum libello
As his port a college fellow,
Softly sips.
There my little book and I
Plunged in varied vision,
While all Heaven seemed all to lie
Close, with breath Elysian;
Dreamily I found therein
Still diviner graces,
Gifts that had their origin
But in my embraces;
Gleamed the text with studies strange,
Readings bright and clever,
Mountain meanings rose, to range
On and on for ever;
Rock and river, earth and sky,
Lights in starry station,
Angels and sweet devilry,
Wrought one revelation;
Never were in wisest books
So bewitching fancies,
As in that dear volume's looks,
Big with young romances;
Thus I lay in languor bound,—
In angello,
Cum libello
While the evening, mild and mellow,
Wrapt us round.