Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/57

Rh And amethyst, and ruby,—then unclose

Your eyelids on the stone where ye repose,

And from your broidered pillows lift your heads,

And rise upon your cold white marble beds;

And looking down on the warm rosy tints

Which checker, at your feet, the illumined flints,

Say, What is this? we are in bliss—forgiven—

Behold the pavement of the courts of heaven!

Or let it be on autumn-nights, when rain

Doth rustlingly above your heads complain

On the smooth leaden roof, and on the walls

Shedding her pensive light at intervals

The moon through the clere-story windows shines.

And the wind washes through the mountain-pines,—

Then, gazing up 'mid the dim pillars high,

The foliaged marble forest where ye lie,

Hush, ye will say, it is eternity!

This is the glimmering verge of heaven, and these

The columns of the heavenly palaces.

And in the sweeping of the wind your ear

The passage of the angels' wings will hear,

And on the lichen-crusted leads above

The rustle of the eternal rain of love.

A MODERN SAPPHO.

are gone—all is still! Foolish heart, dost thou quiver?

Nothing stirs on the lawn but the quick lilac-shade.