ADELINE. MYSTERY of mysteries, Scarce of earth nor all divine, Nor unhappy, nor at rest, With thy floating flaxen hair; Thy rose-lips and full blue eyes Take the heart from out my breast. Wherefore those dim looks of thine, Shadowy, dreaming Adeline ? Whence that aery bloom of thine, Looks thro' in his sad decline, And a rose-bush leans upon, D Of a maiden past away, Ere the placid lips be cold? Wherefore those faint smiles of thine, What hope or fear or joy is thine? Hast thou heard the butterflies With what voice the violet woos To his heart the silver dews? Or when little airs arise, How the merry bluebell rings To the mosses underneath? Hast thou look'd upon the breath Of the lilies at sunrise? Wherefore that faint smile of thine, Some honey-converse feeds thy mind, In love with thee forgets to close All night long on darkness blind. What aileth thee? whom waitest thou With thy soften'd, shadow'd brow, And those dew-lit eyes of thine, Thou faint smiler, Adeline? Lovest thou the doleful wind When thou gazest at the skies? Doth the low-tongued Orient Wander from the side o' the morn, On thy pillow, lowly bent With melodious airs lovelorn, Breathing Light against thy face, While his locks a-dropping twined Round thy neck in subtle ring Make a carcanet of rays, And ye talk together still, In the language wherewith Spring Letters cowslips on the hill? Hence that look and smile of thine, Spiritual Adeline. A CHARACTER. I. WITH a half-glance upon the sky II. He spake of beauty that the dull Saw no divinity in grass, Life in dead stones, or spirit in air; Then looking as 'twere in a glass, He smooth'd his chin and sleek'd his hair, And said the earth was beautiful. III. He spake of virtue: not the gods Pallas and Juno sitting by : And with a sweeping of the arm, IV. Most delicately hour by hour V. With lips depress'd as he were meek, Upon himself himself did feed: And other than his form of creed, With chisell'd features clear and sleek. |