 | Lays and ballads |  |
94
TO THE WIFE OF A POET.
There is a strange enchantment in those eyes,
A most mysterious witchery of light,
Which, like a meteor, kindles as it flies,
And leaves a glory when it fades from sight.
Their sudden splendour, like some magian's wand,
Transports me where the oriental skies
Pavilion all that's beautiful and bright
Within the spicy vales of Persia's land,
Till in the shade of Tefflis' ancient towers,
I see the sacred maids of those forbidden bowers.
A most mysterious witchery of light,
Which, like a meteor, kindles as it flies,
And leaves a glory when it fades from sight.
Their sudden splendour, like some magian's wand,
Transports me where the oriental skies
Pavilion all that's beautiful and bright
Within the spicy vales of Persia's land,
Till in the shade of Tefflis' ancient towers,
I see the sacred maids of those forbidden bowers.
And in the gorgeous courts of old Castile,
Or the Alhambra's tesselated halls,
Thy glances lead me, till I see and feel
The glory of the Past within those walls.
I see the knights ride out on fiery steeds,
And in the tourney watch them plunge and wheel,
Until the fated one defeated falls
And in the loud arena prostrate bleeds!
A king might proudly break a royal lance,
To win from eyes like thine one bright approving glance!
Or the Alhambra's tesselated halls,
Thy glances lead me, till I see and feel
The glory of the Past within those walls.
95
And in the tourney watch them plunge and wheel,
Until the fated one defeated falls
And in the loud arena prostrate bleeds!
A king might proudly break a royal lance,
To win from eyes like thine one bright approving glance!
Such eyes saw she, the one imperial queen
Of all the realm of Intellect, De Stael,
When her own soul, which she had named “Corinne,”
Stood like a Sibyl in the Capitol,
Holding Italia breathless with her spell:—
Such were the eyes by glowing Raphael seen;
And such, it may be, lit the prison wall
When Tasso dreamed of love within his cell;—
And had not Nature touched thy minstrel's tongue,
The sunshine of thy looks had melted him to song!
Of all the realm of Intellect, De Stael,
When her own soul, which she had named “Corinne,”
Stood like a Sibyl in the Capitol,
Holding Italia breathless with her spell:—
Such were the eyes by glowing Raphael seen;
And such, it may be, lit the prison wall
When Tasso dreamed of love within his cell;—
And had not Nature touched thy minstrel's tongue,
The sunshine of thy looks had melted him to song!
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