 | The Last Crusade and Other Poems |  |
140
[O what a lovely magic hath been here]
O what a lovely magic hath been here,Silently weaving through a winter night
Its most exquisite influences. The air
Is clear almost past breathing; woods and rocks
Are robed in dazzling rime—By Heaven! it seems
A world of crystal. 'Tis as if the moon,
Who gazed so lingeringly on all that lay
Last night beneath her tenderness, had breathed
All her full silver heart over the land
And left it frozen there—so wan her cheek,
Her wasted cheek fast fading from the sky.
| The Last Crusade and Other Poems | |