Page:Poems of Sentiment and Imagination.djvu/94

90 Like Eolian harp-chords waking

To each starting of the gale,

And in some strong tempest breaking

With a wild and mournful wail—

So the heart-strings thrill and quiver

To the world's rude borean breath,

Till the "silver cords" do sever,

Or are gently loosed by death.

So, as notes Eolian perish,

When the breeze has died away,

Will the soul-strains now I cherish

Live but only for a day.

MADELINE.

saw aught like to what thou art—

A spirit so peculiar in its mould,

With so much wildness, and with yet a part

Of all the softer beauties we behold:

So dark and still at times, thy spirit seeming

Like waters sheltered from the shining sun,

Hidden in the dim mantle of its dreaming,

As if it joyed all earthliness to shun;

And yet again, emerging from its dream

Thy soul shines forth, pellucid as the air;

And O so lovely and so bright, we deem

That mortal sprite could never be so fair!

Thy thoughts in their rare current stilly gliding

Glimmer so starrily through thy pure eyes,

Revealing glimpses of the heart's wealth hiding

Within their depths, gem-bedded like the skies.