The waters, that like diamonds shone, She moved in light of her own making. At length, as from that airy height I gently lower'd my breathless flight, The tremble of my wing all o'er (For through each plume I felt the thrill) Startled her, as she reach'd the shore Of that small lake-her mirror still- It seem'd as if each thought, and look, And like a sunflower by a brook, With face upturn'd-so still remained! In pity to the wond'ring maid, Though loath from such a vision turning, Downward I bent, beneath the shade Of my spread wings to hide the burning Of glances, which-I well could feelFor me, for her, too warmly shone; But, ere I could again unseal My restless eyes, or even steal One sidelong look, the maid was goneHid from me in the forest leaves, Sudden as when, in all her charms "Tis not in words to tell the power, The despotism that, from that hour, Passion held o'er me. Day and night I sought around each neighboring spot; And, in the chase of this sweet light, My task, and heaven, and all forgot;All, but the one, sole, haunting dream Of her I saw in that bright stream. Nor was it long, ere by her side I found myself, whole happy days, List'ning to words, whose music vied With our own Eden's seraph lays, When seraph lays are warmed by love, But, wanting that, far, far above!And looking into eyes where, blue And beautiful, like skies seen through The sleeping wave, for me there shone A heaven, more worshipp'd than my own. Oh what, while I could hear and see Such words and looks, was heav'n to me? Though gross the air on earth I drew, Where LEA was-the other, all The dull, wide waste, where she was not! But vain my suit, my madness vain; I would have torn the wings, that hung Of the hot noon but look more white; To which her prayers at morn were sent, To that free, glorious element! It was a sorrow, calm as deep, A mournfulness that could not weep, So fix'd and froz'n with grief, to think That very night-my heart had grown Between them and this nether zone, Thought 'twas their herald's wing returning. Oft did the potent spell-word, giv'n To Envoys hither from the skies, And once, too, was so nearly spoken, When my heart fail'd—the spell was broken-The word unfinish'd died away, And my check'd plumes, ready to soar, Fell slack and lifeless as before. Or lost or won, made all to me? No matter where my wand'rings were, So there she look'd, breathed, moved about Woe, ruin, death, more sweet with her, But, to return--that very day A feast was held, where, full of mirth, Came-crowding thick as flow'rs that play In summer winds-the young and gay And beautiful of this bright earth. And she was there, and 'mid the young And beautiful stood first, alone; Though on her gentle brow still hung The shadow I that morn had thrownThe first, that ever shame or woe Had cast upon its vernal snow. My heart was unadden'd;—in the flush Of the wild revel I gave way To all that frantic mirth-that rush Of desp'rate gayety, which they, Who never felt how pain's excess Can break out thus, think happiness! Sad mimicry of mirth and life, Whose flashes come but from the strife Of inward passions-like the light Struck out by clashing swords in fight. Then, too, that juice of earth, the bane But grasping Heav'n, too, in their span !— To my lost soul into eclipse; Such fantasies and wrong desires, Haunt us for ever-like wild-fires Now hear the rest;-our banquet done, I sought her in th' accustomed bow'r, At the same silent, moonlight hour. While she, in looking, grew more bright, There was a virtue in that scene, A spell of holiness around, Which, had my burning brain not been Ev'n as it was, with soul all flame, And lips that burn'd in their own sighs, Full o'er me when I saw those eyes; Was the wild love with which I loved, Which work'd within me at that hour, To soothe me in that lonely sky; 'One look, like those the young and fond 'Give when they're parting-which would be, 'Ev'n in remembrance, far beyond 'All heav'n hath left of bliss for me! 'Oh, but to see that head recline 'A minute on this trembling arm, 'And those mild eyes look up to mine, 'Without a dread, a thought of harm! 'To meet, but once, the thrilling touch Of lips too purely fond to fear me— 'Or, if that boon be all too much, 'Ev'n thus to bring their fragrance near me! 'Nay, shrink not so-a look-a word 'Give them but kindly and I fly; 'Already, see, my plumes have stirr'd, And tremble for their home on high. Thus be our parting-cheek to cheek'One minute's lapse will be forgiv’n, 'And thou, the next, shalt hear me speak "The spell that plumes my wing for Heav'n!' While thus I spoke, the fearful maid, I now recall, though wilder'd then,— Her brow, her eyes uprose again, And, with an eagerness, that spoke The sudden light that o'er her broke, The spell, the spell!-oh, speak it now, 'And I will bless thee!' she exclaim'dUnknowing what I did, inflamed, And lost already, on her brow I stamp'd one burning kiss, and named The mystic word, till then ne'er told To living creature of earth's mould! Scarce was it said, when, quick as thought, Her lips from mine, like echo, caught The holy sound-her hands and eyes Were instant lifted to the skies, And thrice to heav'n she spoke it out With that triumphant look Faith wears, When not a cloud of fear or doubt, That very moment her whole frame That sparkle around ALLA's Throne, Above me, in the moonbeam shone With a pure light, which-from its hue, Unknown upon this earth-I knew Was light from Eden, glist'ning through! Most holy vision! ne'er before Did aught so radiant-since the day The third of the bright stars away— But did I tamely view her flight? Did not I, too, proclaim out thrice Again to bring us, eyes to eyes, I did I spoke it o'er and o'er I pray'd, I wept, but all in vain ; For me the spell had pow'r no more. There seemed around me some dark chain Which still, as I essay'd to soar, Baffled, alas, each wild endeavor: Dead lay my wings, as they have lain Since that sad hour, and will remainSo wills th' offended God-for ever! It was to yonder star I traced In wishes and in dreams before, Her home of light for evermore! Once or did I but fancy so?— Ev'n in her flight to that fair sphere, 'Mid all her spirit's new-felt glow, A pitying look she turned below On him who stood in darkness here; Him whom, perhaps, if vain regret Can dwell in heaven, she pities yet; And oft, when looking to this dim And distant world, remembers him But soon that passing dream was gone; As are those specks that yonder burn,Those vivid drops of light, that fall The last from Day's exhausted urn. And when at length she merged, afar, hto her own immortal star, And when at length my straining sight Fad caught her wing's last fading ray, That minute from my soul the light Of leav'n and love both passed away; And I forgot my home, my birth, Profaned my spirit, sunk my brow, And revell in gross joys of earth, Till I became what I am now!" The Spirit bow'd his head in shame; A shame, that of itself would tellWere there not evn those breaks of flame, Celestial, through his clouded frameHow grand the height from which he fell! That holy Shame, which ne'er forgets Th' unblench'd renown it used to wear; Whose blush remains, when Virtue sets, To show her sunshine has been there. Once only, while the tale he told, As though he felt some deadly pain From its sweet light through heart and brainShrunk back, and never look'd again. Who was the Second Spirit? he With the proud front and piercing glance- Behind the veils of that blue sky, And Space and Thought an empire claim'd, "Twixt whom and them was distance far And wide as would the journey be To reach from any island star The vague shores of Infinity! "Twas RUBI, in whose mournful eye Slept the dim light of days gone by; Whose voice, though sweet, fell on the ear Like echoes, in some silent place, When first awaked for many a year; And when he smiled, if o'er his face Ev'n o'er his pride, though still the same, Seen through some noble pile on fire! Such was the Angel, who now broke The silence that had come o'er all, When he, the Spirit that last spoke, Closed the sad hist'ry of his fall; And, while a sacred lustre, flown For many a day, relumed his cheekBeautiful, as in days of old; And not those eloquent lips alone But every feature seem'd to speakThus his eventful story told: SECOND ANGEL'S STORY "You both remember well the day, When unto Eden's new-made bow'rs, ALLA convoked the bright array Of his supreme angelic pow'rs, To witness the one wonder yet, Beyond man, angel, star, or sun, He must achieve, ere he could set His seal upon the world, as done To see that last perfection rise, That crowning of creation's birth, When, mid the worship and surprise Of circling angels, Woman's eyes First open'd upon heav'n and earth; And from their lids a thrill was sent, That through each living spirit went, Like first light through the firmament! Can you forget how gradual stole The fresh-awaken'd breath of soul Throughout her perfect form-which seem'd The progress of the noontide air, And varying heav'n's reflections thereOr, like the light of evening, stealing O'er some fair temple, which all day Can you forget her blush, when round Whate'er I did, or dream'd, or felt, It was my doom-ev'n from the first, By some new wonder, some sublime The wish to know-that endless thirst, Which ev'n by quenching is awaked, Often-so much I loved to trace What soul within their radiance dwelt, And wishing their sweet light were speech That they might tell me all they felt. Nay, oft, so passionate my chase Should 'scape me in the farthest nightSome pilgrim Comet, on his way To visit distant shrines of light, And well remember how I sung Exultingly, when on my sight New worlds of stars, all fresh and young, As if just born of darkness, sprung! Such was my pure ambition then, My sinless transport, night and morn: |