 | English Roses |  |
MURIEL.
When I gaze at Muriel
Calmly bright,
All hearts' delight,
Lo, I walk on asphodel;
Flash upon me, as I look,
Regions fair
Of purple air,
Opened like a wonder book.
And I seem transported far
Out of space,
Beyond the trace
Of the least-conjectured star.
Calmly bright,
All hearts' delight,
Lo, I walk on asphodel;
Flash upon me, as I look,
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Of purple air,
Opened like a wonder book.
And I seem transported far
Out of space,
Beyond the trace
Of the least-conjectured star.
With a wistful glance her eye
Turns from ill,
While catching still
Glimpses of eternity.
Never quite at home on earth,
She outstands
On borderlands
Leading from our dusk and dearth.
Though one foot is planted here
Over death,
She draws her breath
In another atmosphere.
Turns from ill,
While catching still
Glimpses of eternity.
Never quite at home on earth,
She outstands
On borderlands
Leading from our dusk and dearth.
Though one foot is planted here
Over death,
She draws her breath
In another atmosphere.
When I speak to Muriel,
She if nigh
Appears as high
As a solemn sentinel;
Planted by an angel host,
On a tall
Fair city's wall,
Keeping guard at her great post;
And her very words sound faint,
Hardly clear
To human ear,
Like the visions of a saint.
She if nigh
Appears as high
As a solemn sentinel;
Planted by an angel host,
On a tall
Fair city's wall,
Keeping guard at her great post;
And her very words sound faint,
Hardly clear
To human ear,
Like the visions of a saint.
Every time she moves, she brings
Memories
And ecstasies
Of pure hopes and happy wings.
Golden chords of our lost strain,
Murmur on
Of music gone,
Which will yet come back again.
Thus, although I cannot guess
What her sight
Beholds in light,
I can feel her heavenliness.
Memories
And ecstasies
Of pure hopes and happy wings.
Golden chords of our lost strain,
Murmur on
Of music gone,
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Thus, although I cannot guess
What her sight
Beholds in light,
I can feel her heavenliness.
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