Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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VOICES FROM THE DEAD. |
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 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
VOICES FROM THE DEAD.
Voices long loved—come back upon my dreams,
And make my heart's blood flow in quicker streams—
And faces and dear forms familiar, light
My slumber till it grows almost too bright!
And make my heart's blood flow in quicker streams—
And faces and dear forms familiar, light
My slumber till it grows almost too bright!
The Dead are living there—upon their cheek,
Burns Life's own loveliest and most radiant streak,
Within the unsealed and the unshrouded eye—
Bright kindlings play and loving meanings lie.
Burns Life's own loveliest and most radiant streak,
Within the unsealed and the unshrouded eye—
Bright kindlings play and loving meanings lie.
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They speak to me in their accustomed tone,
And speak not of the distant World unknown—
They smile on me—and I on them smile too—
Nor shrink in awe, but long rent ties renew.
And speak not of the distant World unknown—
They smile on me—and I on them smile too—
Nor shrink in awe, but long rent ties renew.
Mighty Creatress—Soul! immortal thing—
How dost thou mount upon thy tameless wing,
When the outward World is hidden and removed,
Compelling back to thee thy lost and loved.
How dost thou mount upon thy tameless wing,
When the outward World is hidden and removed,
Compelling back to thee thy lost and loved.
In thine own life they living seem to be—
They move and breathe—and are—and act in thee;
This Phantom World is by thy fair skill wrought,
Thou that canst sweep wide space with one wing'd thought!
They move and breathe—and are—and act in thee;
This Phantom World is by thy fair skill wrought,
Thou that canst sweep wide space with one wing'd thought!
Voices long loved—come back upon my dreams,
My heart's-blood flows in warmer—quicker streams—
They come—Oh! could they stay—content I were
To yield my waking life for dreams so fair!
My heart's-blood flows in warmer—quicker streams—
They come—Oh! could they stay—content I were
To yield my waking life for dreams so fair!
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |