Specimens of American poetry | ||
And silently I bow'd to her; and then
Wander'd above me one accepting strain,
And I rose up; of that sweet vision there
Was not one tint upon the dewy air.
Yet, o'er the pale hills of the distant west,
Went calmly down one golden star to rest;
And as on me its lingering glance was cast,
I knew her smile; thus had her spirit pass'd:
And in that moment, I became to her,
And yet am now, a happy worshipper.
Wander'd above me one accepting strain,
And I rose up; of that sweet vision there
Was not one tint upon the dewy air.
Yet, o'er the pale hills of the distant west,
Went calmly down one golden star to rest;
And as on me its lingering glance was cast,
I knew her smile; thus had her spirit pass'd:
And in that moment, I became to her,
And yet am now, a happy worshipper.
Specimens of American poetry | ||