 | The poems of Celia Thaxter |  |
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Above in her chamber her voice I hear
Singing so clear;
Among her flowers I stand and wait,
Dreaming I lean on the garden gate,
In joy and fear.
Singing so clear;
Among her flowers I stand and wait,
Dreaming I lean on the garden gate,
In joy and fear.
Softly the light robes she doth wear
Sweep down the stair;
O eager heart, less wildly beat,—
I shall behold her, stately, sweet,
All good and fair!
Sweep down the stair;
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I shall behold her, stately, sweet,
All good and fair!
Nearer, her voice! In a moment more
Through the open door
Come grace and beauty and all delight
The round world holds to my dazzled sight,
The threshold o'er!
Through the open door
Come grace and beauty and all delight
The round world holds to my dazzled sight,
The threshold o'er!
She holds me mute with her beaming eyes
Full of bright surprise;
Still grow the pulses her coming shook,
In the gentle might of her golden look
My heaven lies!
Full of bright surprise;
Still grow the pulses her coming shook,
In the gentle might of her golden look
My heaven lies!
| The poems of Celia Thaxter | |