The prudent partner of his blood Lean'd on him, faithful, gentle, good, Wearing the rose of womanhood. And in their double love secure, The little maiden walk'd demure, Pacing with downward eyelids pure. These three made unity so sweet, I blest them, and they wander'd on : A second voice was at mine ear, A murmur, "Be of better cheer." As from some blissful neighbourhood A notice faintly understood, 66 "I see the end, and know the good." A little hint to solace woe, A hint, a whisper breathing low, 66 I may not speak of what I know." Like an Æolian harp that wakes No certain air, but overtakes Far thought with music that it makes. Such seem'd the whisper at my side: "What is it thou knowest, sweet voice?" I cried. "A hidden hope," the voice replied: So heavenly-toned, that in that hour Broke, like the rainbow from the shower, To feel, altho' no tongue can prove, And veileth love, itself is love. And forth into the fields I went, And Nature's living motion lent The pulse of hope to discontent. I wonder'd at the bounteous hours, The slow result of winter showers: You scarce could see the grass for flowers. I wonder'd, while I paced along, The woods were filled so full with song, There seem'd no room for sense of wrong. So variously seem'd all things wrought, And wherefore rather I made choice To commune with that barren voice, Than him that said, "Rejoice! rejoice!" 1833. THE DAY-DREAM. PROLOGUE. O, LADY FLORA, let me speak: A pleasant hour has passed away While, dreaming on your damask cheek, The dewy sister-eyelids lay. As by the lattice you reclined, I went thro' many wayward moods To see you dreaming—and, behind, A summer crisp with shining woods. And I too dream'd, until at last Across my fancy, brooding warm, The reflex of a legend past, And loosely settled into form. |