A Vision (Bowling)

As hard at work I trimmed the midnight lamp, Yfilling of mine head with classic lore, Mine hands firm clasped upon my temples damp, Methought I heard a tapping at the door; 'Come in,' I cried, with most unearthly rore, Fearing a horrid Dun or Don to see, Or Tomkins, that unmitigated bore, Whom I love not, but who alas! loves me, And cometh oft unbid and drinketh of my tea.

'Come in,' I rored; when suddenly there rose A magick form before my dazzled eyes: 'Or do I wake,' I asked myself 'or doze'? Or hath an angel come in mortal guise'? So wondered I; but nothing mote surmise; Only I gazed upon that lovely face, In reverence yblent with mute surprise: Sure never yet was seen such wondrous grace, Since Adam first began to run his earthlie race.

Her hands were folded on her bosom meek; Her sweet blue eyes were lifted t'ward the skie; Her lips were parted, yet she did not speak; Only at times she sighed, or seemed to sigh: In all her 'haviour was there nought of shy; Yet well I wis no Son of Earth would dare, To look with love upon that lofty eye; For in her beauty there was somewhat rare, A something that repell'd an ordinary stare.

Then did she straight a snowycloth disclose Of samite, which she placed upon a chair: Then, smiling like a freshly-budding rose, She gazed upon me with a witching air, As mote a Cynic anchorite ensnare. Eftsoons, as though her thoughts she could not smother, She hasted thus her mission to declare:-- 'Please, these is your clean things I've brought instead of brother, 'And if you'll pay the bill you'll much oblige my mother.'


 * (1860).