A Dream of Beauty

I dreamed that each most lovely, perfect thing That nature hath, of sound and form and hue— The winds, the grass, the light-concentering dew, The gleam and swiftness of the sea-bird's wing; Blueness of sea and sky, and gold of storm Transmuted by the sunset, and the flame Of autumn-colored leaves, before me came, And, meeting, merged to one diviner form.

Incarnate Beauty 'twas, whose spirit thrills Through glaucous ocean and the greener hills, And in the cloud-bewildered peaks is pent. Her face the light of fallen planets wore, But as I gazed, in doubt and wonderment, Mine eyes were dazzled, and I saw no more.