 | [The maiden's dream, in] The female poets of America |  |
174
THE MAIDEN'S DREAM.
“Thrice hallowed be that beautiful dawn of love when the maiden's cheek still blushes at the conscious sweetness of her own innocent thoughts.”—
Jean Paul.
Ask not if she loves, but look
In the blue depths of her eye,
Where the maiden's spirit seems
Tranced in happy dreams to lie.
In the blue depths of her eye,
Where the maiden's spirit seems
Tranced in happy dreams to lie.
All the blisses of her dream,
All she may not, must not speak,
Read them in her clouded eye,
Read them on her conscious cheek.
All she may not, must not speak,
Read them in her clouded eye,
Read them on her conscious cheek.
See that cheek of virgin snow
Damasked with love's rosy bloom;
Mark the lambent thoughts that glow
Mid her blue eye's tender gloom.
Damasked with love's rosy bloom;
Mark the lambent thoughts that glow
Mid her blue eye's tender gloom.
As if in a cool, deep well,
Veiled by shadows of the night,
Slanting through, a starbeam fell,
Filling all its depths with light.
Veiled by shadows of the night,
Slanting through, a starbeam fell,
Filling all its depths with light.
Something mournful and profound
Saddens all her beauty now,
Weds her dark eye to the ground—
Fling's a shadow o'er her brow.
Saddens all her beauty now,
Weds her dark eye to the ground—
Fling's a shadow o'er her brow.
Hath her love-illumined soul
Raised the veil of coming years—
Read upon life's mystic scroll
Its doom of agony and tears?
Raised the veil of coming years—
Read upon life's mystic scroll
Its doom of agony and tears?
Tears of tender sadness fall
From her soft and lovelit eye,
As the night dews heavily
Fall from summer's cloudless sky.
From her soft and lovelit eye,
As the night dews heavily
Fall from summer's cloudless sky.
Still she sitteth coyly drooping
Her white lids in virgin pride,
Like a languid lily stooping
Low her folded blooms to hide.
Her white lids in virgin pride,
Like a languid lily stooping
Low her folded blooms to hide.
Starting now in soft surprise
From the tangled web of thought,
Lo, her heart a captive lies,
In its own sweet fancies caught.
From the tangled web of thought,
Lo, her heart a captive lies,
In its own sweet fancies caught.
Ah! bethink thee, maiden yet,
Ere to passion's doom betrayed;
Hearts where Love his seal has set,
Sorrow's fiercest pangs invade.
Ere to passion's doom betrayed;
Hearts where Love his seal has set,
Sorrow's fiercest pangs invade.
Let that young heart slumber still,
Like a bird within its nest;
Life can ne'er its dreams fulfil—
Love but yield thee long unrest.
Like a bird within its nest;
Life can ne'er its dreams fulfil—
Love but yield thee long unrest.
Ah! in vain the dovelet tries
To break the web of tender thought—
The little heart a captive lies,
In its own sweet fancies caught.
To break the web of tender thought—
The little heart a captive lies,
In its own sweet fancies caught.
| [The maiden's dream, in] The female poets of America | |