University of Virginia Library

JACOB'S LADDER..

—AT THE QUEEN'S DRAWING ROOM

Was it only a dream, or a vision
Of the heavens laid bare?
A delight from above, or derision
From abysses of care?
While the world all around me looked sadder,
Through its lacquer of lies;
Yet again seemed upraised Jacob's Ladder,
From below to the skies—
Yet again streamed the wonderful glory,
From the figures that trod;
And I saw re-enacted the story,
Of the angels of God.
Shapes of beauty, surpassing narration,
Flitted up and down still;
With the faces that were revelation,
In the darkness of ill—
With the eyes, that looked out in the splendour
Of their womanly trust,
And the love ever truthful and tender,
Like the sunshine on dust.
With the chime of melodious voices,
As in summery caves,
When the sea is asleep, and rejoices
In the rippling of waves—
With the rustling of delicate dresses,
And the shimmer of gowns
In the shadow, and light that caresses
All it daintily crowns—
With the rapture of colour and movement,
And of jewels and lace,
Form and feature defying improvement,
The indefinite grace,
Those sweet gifts, that demand not the favour
Of mere fortune to bless,
Of false art with its counterfeit savour,
Which queens may not possess.
And I saw in their charms such a magic,
In their sceptre-less hands
Such a power over all that is tragic,
As would conquer the lands—
As would banish the sighing of sorrow
On our dolorous way,
And would bring in the happier morrow
Of a holier day.
They could give to earth's starving and straining
Its old innocent glow,
The lost Paradise richly regaining—
If they only did know;
They might make the gray world so much gladder,
And reform what is wry,
Just by being indeed Jacob's Ladder—
If they truly would try.