 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
TO THE SPIRIT OF SONG.
Come, sweet spirit, come, I pray,
Thou hast been too long away;
Come, and in the dreamland light,
Keep with me a tryst to-night.
Thou hast been too long away;
Come, and in the dreamland light,
Keep with me a tryst to-night.
When the reapers once at morn
Bound the golden stocks of corn,
Shadowy hands, that none could see,
Gleaned along the field with me.
Bound the golden stocks of corn,
Shadowy hands, that none could see,
Gleaned along the field with me.
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Come, and with thy wings so white
Hide me from a wicked sprite,
That has vexed me with a sign
Which I tremble to divine.
Hide me from a wicked sprite,
That has vexed me with a sign
Which I tremble to divine.
At a black loom sisters three
Saw I weaving; Can it be,
Thought I, as I saw them crowd
The white shuttles, 't is a shroud?
Saw I weaving; Can it be,
Thought I, as I saw them crowd
The white shuttles, 't is a shroud?
Silently the loom they left,
Taking mingled warp and weft,
And, as wild my bosom beat,
Measured me from head to feet.
Taking mingled warp and weft,
And, as wild my bosom beat,
Measured me from head to feet.
Liest thou in the drowning brine.
Sweetest, gentlest love of mine,
Tangled softly from my prayer,
By some Nereid's shining hair?
Sweetest, gentlest love of mine,
Tangled softly from my prayer,
By some Nereid's shining hair?
Or, when mortal hope withdrew,
Didst thou, faithless, leave me too,
Blowing on thy lovely reed,
Careless how my heart should bleed?
Didst thou, faithless, leave me too,
Blowing on thy lovely reed,
Careless how my heart should bleed?
By this sudden chill I know
That it is, it must be so—
Sprite of darkness, sisters three,
Lo, I wait your ministry.
That it is, it must be so—
Sprite of darkness, sisters three,
Lo, I wait your ministry.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |