He knew not what in woman's face
So many saw to fancy so;
A rosy cheek!-a lily brow!
Why, what in those so full of grace?
Or what within an eye of jet,
Affirm'd to pierce a bosom through?
Or milder eye of melting blue ?
Or pearls in parted coral set?
Or in a form without a want-
Perfection, graceful as the fawn?
Nought, nought but fancies overdrawn,
In sounding language run to rant.
Beauty! it was the bait of sin,
That led our manliness astray;
And happy he who braved the play
Of colours shallow as the skin.
He said, forsooth, the wiles of Eve
In woman's heart were rampant still;
And daily did she, at her will,
Our weaker Adams still deceive.
Advising thus-beware her art;
Resist its fixed and certain aim; Assert thy sex, nor let the flame Of woman's fire thy manly heart.
And if through life thou'd snugly move,
Nor wish to taste of jarring strife;
Be thine the bliss of single life,
And give to fools the bonds of love.
In the shadow of the aisle
We pass'd the weeper by;
And we witness'd well the while
Her throes of agony;
How her vacant eye was staring,
As she seem'd absorb'd in thought; How her tresses she was tearing, While her phrenzied feelings wrought;
How her little hands she wrung,
With his name upon her lips;
How she frantically sung
In her reason's dim eclipse;
How the earth she was embracing,
As her lost, her dearest one:
Oh! a scene so soul distressing
Might have melted heart of stone.
We heav'd a pitying sigh,
And we breathed a silent prayer,
As we stood unheeded by,
For this daughter of despair;
And we felt the tear-drops trembling, Ere they glisten'd on our cheek; For our heart forbade dissembling, While its sympathies would speak.
But we saw the calmer mood,
In the ray of reason beam;
Dispelling every cloud
That was brooding o'er her dream :
Still her heart long'd to inherit
A place of nobler birth;
For she felt her lonely spirit
Was no citizen of earth.
"I am coming, I am coming,
My dearest one," she cried;
"I am coming, I am coming,
To lay me by thy side.
I haste, but death delays;
Oh bid him point his dart,
And, plunging, pierce the core
Of my almost broken heart."
Haste, haste, thou tyrant King!
Oh! haste, and set me free;
For the grave is gaping wide,
To engulph its victory ;-
To clasp the worthless clay
That binds me to the breast
Of mother earth; while far away
My soul would be at rest."
The King of Terrors came,
With ready furbish'd brand,
And dimm'd life's flick'ring flame,
As he raised his bony hand :
O'erpower'd-the fragile thing
No longer could him chide,
But, yielding to his sting,
She shriek'd, fell down, and died.
Ladye love, ladye love, softly repose;
Light on thy orbs may the fringy lids close;
Calm be the breathings bespeaking thy rest;
Gentle the heavings expanding thy breast:
Moonbeams the brightest
Smile on thee now;
Zephyrs the lightest
Fan marble the whitest
Alive in thy brow.
Ladye love, ladye love, creature of light!
Roameth thy spirit abroad to-night?
Say, is it scaling that height sublime-
The region of bliss in elysian clime?
Clime of the dreamy land,
Far, far away;
Where, with her fairy wand,
Fancy its phantom strand
Holdeth in sway.
Ladye love, ladye love, if it be there,
On to that region of bliss will I bear ;
Brimful of hope that with thee I will meet,
Spirit to spirit in unity sweet :
Being of purity !
Then we'd be blest,
If through futurity,
In its security,
Could we but rest.
Ladye love, ladye love, if thou'rt awake,
List the soft raptures the silence that break;
Blend thou thy voice in the lute-chorus'd song;
Bid its sweet melodies burst from thy tongue :
Hush! they are stealing,
In whispers divine;
Hark! they are pealing,
And firing with feeling,
This bosom of mine.
Music! how thy thrilling strains
Ever echo in our breast!
When the trembling wire complains,
And thy spirit is express't;
Then upon our senses steal
Secret raptures strangely wild—
Raptures burning to reveal
What thou art, thou seraph child,
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