Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/457

 And I did marvel at her voice, and shook With terror, but right soon the smiling look Of gentleness, that radiant maiden threw From her large sparkling eyes of deepest blue, Did reassure me. Breathless, I did gaze Upon that lovely one, in fond amaze, And marked her long white hair as it did flow, With wanton dalliance, o'er the pillared snow Of her swan-like neck;—and then my eye grew dim With an exceeding lustre, for the slim And gauze-wove raiment of her bosom fair, Was somewhat ruffled by the midnight air; And as it gently heaved, there sprung to view Such glories underneath—such sisters two Of rival loveliness! Oh, 'twere most vain For fond conceit to fancy such again. The robe she wore was broidered fetouslye With flower and leaf of richest imagerye; And threads of gold therein were entertwined With quaintest needlecraft; and to my mind It seemed, the waist of this most lovely one, Was clipped within a broad and azure zone, Studded with strange devices—One small hand Waved gracefully a slender ivory wand, And with the other, ever and anon, She shook a harp, which, as the winds sighed past,