02.07.2007, 07:49
An Ideal
I ofttimes see her face here in the gloom,
When--dreaming by my fire as dreamers dream--
I watch the flickering fire-lights, till they seem,
Like magic shuttles on a shadowy loom,
To weave strange pictures in the dusky room.
For her face 'mid the others there I find;
It thrills me with a sense all undefined--
Vague as the fragrance of an old perfume.
Her hair--the light that shimmers on the sea,--
Her wistful mouth--a red bud not half blown,--
Her tender eyes--a cloudless summer sky,--
Flash on my sight, a glimpse of rapture nigh,
Then fade away and leave me here alone...
Her heart--but Love himself holds that in fee.
I ofttimes see her face here in the gloom,
When--dreaming by my fire as dreamers dream--
I watch the flickering fire-lights, till they seem,
Like magic shuttles on a shadowy loom,
To weave strange pictures in the dusky room.
For her face 'mid the others there I find;
It thrills me with a sense all undefined--
Vague as the fragrance of an old perfume.
Her hair--the light that shimmers on the sea,--
Her wistful mouth--a red bud not half blown,--
Her tender eyes--a cloudless summer sky,--
Flash on my sight, a glimpse of rapture nigh,
Then fade away and leave me here alone...
Her heart--but Love himself holds that in fee.