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. |
