Days and Hours :: :: University of Virginia Library

Angels of beauty are abroad to-day,
And ministers of bliss; the Winds are sleeping,
And thro' a thin-wove veil of silvery gray
The Sun is like a timid lover peeping,
Where Hope in her own garden stands and sings,
And gazing upward hears the skylark chiming
Wild response to her song, and with his wings
Swift measure to his eager music timing.

II

She sang, ‘They say that I am false as fair,
That these blue eyes are fickle, vain this breath,
Mine idle aims impalpable as air,
My life a lie, and all its triumphs death;
For when I clutch the amaranth flower of Joy,
Wealth's golden urn, the laurels of the Muse,
Joy, Wealth, and Fame may live, but Hope I die,
Like rainbows follow'd thro' their own sweet dews.

III

‘Thankless are they: who arms the heart of Youth?
Who fires the lover's song, the hero's eye?
Who breathes the hermit's prayer, the martyr's truth?
Who makes it bliss to live, and peace to die?
Thankless are they, and heed not what they say,
There is no armour against ill but mine;
When Beauty, Strength, and Youth are fled away,
The living light within mine eyes doth shine.

IV

‘These limbs can be a giant's in their might,
This still small voice a trumpet clear and loud,
These tearful orbs, that tremble in the light,
Strong as an eagle's soaring through a cloud;
I raise the fond eyes, and the listening ears
Of babes to their first friend; I meet the frown
Of the last Enemy full-arm'd with fears,
I give him battle, and I cast him down.’

V

But, while she spoke, a shadow o'er the plain
Swept softly, and she turn'd, and there, there lay
The wondrous arch, built up of sun and rain,
And dyed the far-off woods in hues of May;
She ran in haste to scale those steps of fire;
The weeping Iris, jealous of her eyes,
Drew back her ladder, lest Hope should aspire
Earth-born to mount unbidden to the skies.

VI

Where are the glories that she saw from far?
There is no beauty, but the frown instead
Of angry Winter arm'd again for war,
Grim, with blown mantle, o'er the mountain-head.
Her eyes were fill'd with tears, her heart beat fast,
The dewy drops shower'd round her as she came;
Homeward she bent her jocund steps at last,
And laugh'd with mirth, the while she blush'd with shame.

VII

Lightly she stepp'd, and lo! beyond the shade
Of the gray storm she saw the sunny lea,
Like an empyreal shore, that seem'd to fade
In the far azure ether like a Sea;
And stream, and lawn, steep wood, and templed town,
Flash'd forth like isles of glory; and she sung—
‘So do my blisses lie beyond the frown
Of envious Time, my heart is ever young.’

VIII

She sang—‘I'll take the eagle's wings, and scale
The mighty walls that stand against the sky;
I'll take the crescent Moon, and softly sail
Upon the winding amber streams that lie
Betwixt the clouds; I'll take a beam and run
Up to the diamond gates of Paradise;
I'll peep behind the curtains of the Sun,
And see the fountains of the Day arise.’

IX

Far o'er the woods, into the midst of Morn,
Ceasing her song, she turn'd her straining sight,
And the pale mountains on their fronts forlorn,
Caught her warm smile, and laugh'd with sudden light;
The Sun flash'd forth in answer to her smile,
And fill'd the World with radiant ecstacies;
Then to her garden flowers she turn'd awhile,
Pansies, and violets, like her own blue eyes.