Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton collected and arranged by H. Augusta Dodge |
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MIDNIGHT |
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 | Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton |  |
MIDNIGHT
Silently in
Floats the balmy air,
Gently lifts her wavy hair,
Daintily in soft caresses
Dallieth mid the golden tresses
Of my darling, as she lies
With the delicate lids low drooping
Wearily over her radiant eyes—
Dreaming brightly
She reposes
Touch her lightly
Breath of roses.
Floats the balmy air,
Gently lifts her wavy hair,
Daintily in soft caresses
Dallieth mid the golden tresses
Of my darling, as she lies
With the delicate lids low drooping
Wearily over her radiant eyes—
Dreaming brightly
She reposes
Touch her lightly
Breath of roses.
Silently in
Melt the silver beams,
Web and woof of youthful dreams,
With a liquid glory now
Bathing all her holy brow,
Gleaming from each dreamy fold
Of enwreathing pliant gold,
Flashing many a regal gem,
Crowning with a diadem
All the beauty breathing there,
Calmly, stilly, resting then.
Dreaming airily,
Angels seeming
Crown her fairily
Golden gleaming.
Melt the silver beams,
Web and woof of youthful dreams,
91
Bathing all her holy brow,
Gleaming from each dreamy fold
Of enwreathing pliant gold,
Flashing many a regal gem,
Crowning with a diadem
All the beauty breathing there,
Calmly, stilly, resting then.
Dreaming airily,
Angels seeming
Crown her fairily
Golden gleaming.
Silently in
Once a girlish tread
Glided through the ghostly dread
And twilight chambers, where the pall
Of my dead hopes o'er-shrouded all,
Where my soul, unjoyous lord,
Where my soul kept watch and ward,
Where my heart lay stiff and cold
In the cerements' clammy fold,
Guileless or of shame or sin,
Lightly tripped the maiden in—
Thrilled, subdued, in homage meet
Bowed my stern soul at her feet.
From that mouldering charnel hall
Vanished the funereal pall,
Like the mist of morning skies
In the sunlight of her eyes—
At the incense of her breath
Rending off the bands of death,
With one pang of mortal strife,
Forth my heart leaped into life,
Knelt in reverence down to her
As beseems a worshipper—
Now a humble genial soul—
Now a heart by her made whole—
Pour the red and humid wine,
Crown the chalice at a shrine
That is only not divine—
Breath of even
Fan her lightly,
Sheen of Heaven
Crown her brightly.
Once a girlish tread
Glided through the ghostly dread
And twilight chambers, where the pall
Of my dead hopes o'er-shrouded all,
Where my soul, unjoyous lord,
Where my soul kept watch and ward,
Where my heart lay stiff and cold
In the cerements' clammy fold,
Guileless or of shame or sin,
Lightly tripped the maiden in—
Thrilled, subdued, in homage meet
Bowed my stern soul at her feet.
From that mouldering charnel hall
Vanished the funereal pall,
92
In the sunlight of her eyes—
At the incense of her breath
Rending off the bands of death,
With one pang of mortal strife,
Forth my heart leaped into life,
Knelt in reverence down to her
As beseems a worshipper—
Now a humble genial soul—
Now a heart by her made whole—
Pour the red and humid wine,
Crown the chalice at a shrine
That is only not divine—
Breath of even
Fan her lightly,
Sheen of Heaven
Crown her brightly.
May, 1854.
| Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton | |