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She was a
Phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my
sight;
A lovely Apparition, sent
To be a moment's
ornament;
Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair;
Like
Twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else
about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful Dawn;
A dancing Shape, an Image gay,
To haunt, to startle,
and waylay.
I saw her upon nearer view,
A
Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light
and free,
And steps of virgin-liberty;
A
countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises
as sweet;
A Creature not too bright or good
For
human nature's daily food,
For transient sorrows,
simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and
smiles.
And now I see with eye serene
The very
pulse of the machine;
A Being breathing thoughtful
breath,
A Traveller between life and death;
The
reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance,
foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect Woman,
nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright
With something of
angelic light.
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