I saw thee once -- once only -- years ago: I must not say @3how@1 many -- but @3not@1 many. It was a July midnight; and from out A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring, Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven, There fell a silvery-silken veil of light, With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber, Upon the upturned faces of a thousand Roses that grew in an enchanted garden, Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe -- Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses That gave out, in return for the love-light, Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death -- Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence. Clad all in white, upon a violet bank I saw thee half-reclining; while the moon Fell on the upturn'd faces of the roses, And on thine own, upturn'd -- alas, in sorrow! Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight -- Was it not Fate, (whose name is also Sorrow,) That bade me pause before that garden gate, To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses? No footstep stirred: the hated world all slept, Save only thee and me. (Oh, Heaven! -- oh, God! How my heart beats in coupling those two words!) Save only thee and me. I paused -- I looked -- And in an instant all things disappeared. (Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!) The pearly luster of the moon went out: The mossy banks and the meandering paths, The happy flowers and the repining trees, Were seen no more: the very roses' odors Died in the arms of the adoring airs. All -- all expired save thee -- save less than thou: Save only the divine light in thine eyes -- Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes. I saw but them -- they were the world to me! I saw but them -- saw only them for hours, Saw only them until the moon went down. What wild heart-histories seemed to lie enwritten Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres! How dark a woe, yet how sublime a hope! How silently serene a sea of pride! How daring an ambition; yet how deep -- How fathomless a capacity for love! But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight, Into a western couch of thundercloud; And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees Didst glide away. @3Only thine eyes remained;@1 They @3would not@1 go -- they never yet have gone. Lighting my lonely pathway home that night, @3They@1 have not left me (as my hopes have) since; They follow me -- they lead me through the years. They are my ministers -- yet I their slave. Their office is to illumine and enkindle -- My duty, @3to be saved@1 by their bright light, And purified in their electric fire, And sanctified in their elysian fire. They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope), And are far up in Heaven -- the stars I kneel to In the sad, silent watches of my night; While even in the meridian glare of day I see them still -- two sweetly scintillant Venuses, unextinguished by the sun! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REVAMPING THE VIRGIN by KAREN SWENSON THE PILGRIM [SONG], FR. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS by JOHN BUNYAN SONNET OF HIS LADY IN HEAVEN by JACOPO DA LENTINO DEWEY AT MANILA [MAY 1, 1898] by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON PRIAPUS AND THE POOL: 4 by CONRAD AIKEN TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE REV. GILBERT WAKEFIELD by LUCY AIKEN |