All started at the sound--but chief
The third young Angel in whose face,
Tho' faded like the others, grief
Had left a gentler, holier trace;
As if, even yet, thro' pain and ill,
Hope had not fled him--as if still
Her precious pearl in sorrow's cup
Unmelted at the bottom lay,
To shine again, when, all drunk up,
The bitterness should pass away.
Chiefly did he, tho' in his eyes
There shone more pleasure than surprise,
Turn to the wood from whence that sound
Of solitary sweetness broke;
Then, listening, look delighted round
To his bright peers, while thus it spoke:--
"Come, pray with me, my seraph love,
"My angel-lord, come pray with me:
"In vain to-night my lips hath strove
"To send one holy prayer above--
"The knee may bend, the lip may move,
"But pray I cannot, without thee!
"I've fed the altar in my bower
"With droppings from the incense tree;
"I've sheltered it from wind and shower,
"But dim it burns the livelong hour,
"As if, like me, it had no power
"Of life or lustre without thee!
"A boat at midnight sent alone
"To drift upon the moonless sea,
"A lute, whose leading chord is gone,
"A wounded bird that hath but one
"Imperfect wing to soar upon,
"Are like what I am without thee!
"Then ne'er, my spirit-love, divide,
"In life or death, thyself from me;
"But when again in sunny pride
"Thou walk'st thro' Eden, let me glide,
"A prostrate shadow, by thy side--
"Oh happier thus than without thee!"
The song had ceased when from the wood
Which sweeping down that airy height,
Reached the lone spot whereon they stood--
There suddenly shone out a light
From a clear lamp, which, as it blazed
Across the brow of one, who raised
Its flame aloft (as if to throw
The light upon that group below),
Displayed two eyes sparkling between
The dusky leaves, such as are seen
By fancy only, in those faces,
That haunt a poet's walk at even,
Looking from out their leafy places
Upon his dreams of love and heaven.
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