SHE was a phantom of delight
When first she gleam’d 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 plann’d,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet
a Spirit still, and bright
With something of angelic light.
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