While with that light--as if the same
Rich source gave birth to both--there came
A swell of harmony as grand
As e'er was born of voice and band,
Filling the gorgeous aisles around
With luxury of light and sound.
Then was it, by the flash that blazed
Full o'er her features--oh 'twas then,
As startingly her eyes she raised,
But quick let fall their lids again,
I saw--not Psyche's self when first
Upon the threshold of the skies
She paused, while heaven's glory burst
Newly upon her downcast eyes,
Could look more beautiful or blush
With holier shame than did this maid,
Whom now I saw in all that gush
Of splendor from the aisles, displayed.
Never--tho' well thou know'st how much
I've felt the sway of Beauty's star--
Never did her bright influence touch
My soul into its depths so far;
And had that vision lingered there
One minute more I should have flown,
Forgetful _who_ I was and where.
And at her feet in worship thrown
Proffered my soul thro' life her own.
But scarcely had that burst of light
And music broke on ear and sight,
Than up the aisle the bird took wing
As if on heavenly mission sent,
While after him with graceful spring
Like some unearthly creatures, meant
To live in that mixt element
Of light and song the young maids went;
And she who in my heart had thrown
A spark to burn for life was flown.
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