Featured Poem
May 24 - June 1, 1998
Just beautiful... I was under the charms of this poem as soon as I read the first few lines, and the rest of it surprised me pleasantly. The poem is a phantom of delight in itself!
She was a phantom of delight
She was a phantom of delight 
When first she gleam'd upon my sight: 
A lovely apparition, sent 
To be a moment's ornament; 
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair; 
Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair; 
But all things else about her drawn 
From May-time and the cheerful dawn; 
A dancing shape, an image gay, 
To haunt, to startle, and waylay. 

I saw her upon nearer view, 
A spririt, yet a woman too! 
Her household motions light and free, 
And steps of virgin-liberty; 
A countenance in which did meet 
Sweet records, promises as sweet; 
A creature not too bright or good 
For human nature's daily food, 
For transient sorrows, simple wiles, 
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles. 

And now I see with eye serene 
The very pulse of the machine; 
A being breathing thoughtful breath, 
A traveller between life and death: 
The reason firm, the temperate will, 
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill; 
A perfect woman, nobly plann'd 
To warm, to comfort, and command; 
And yet a Spirit still, and bright 
With something of an angel-light.

William Wordsworth
(April 7, 1770 - April 23, 1850)
According to Justice Coleridge, Wordsworth said that 'Phantom of delight' "was written on 'his dear wife', of whom he spoke in the sweetest manner; and a manner full of the warmest love and admiration, yet with delicacy and reserve," and Wordsworth noted: "It was written from my heart, as is sufficiently obvious."
Graphics by Lady Dj
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