With softness woven, graceful, light, and fair,
Resembling Her, in the blue aether o'er us,
A slender figure hovers in the air,—
Thus didst thou see her joyously advance,
The fairest of the fairest in the dance.
Yet but a moment dost thou boldly dare
To clasp an airy form instead of hers;
Back to thine heart! thou'lt find it better there,
For there in changeful guise her image stirs
What erst was one, to many turneth fast,
In thousand forms, each dearer than the last.
As at the door, on meeting lingerd she,
And step by step my faithful ardour bless'd,
For the last kiss herself entreated me,
And on my lips the last last kiss impress'd,—
Thus clearly traced, the lov'd one's form we view,
With flames engraven on a heart so true,—
A heart that, firm as some embattled tower,
Itself for her, her in itself reveres,
For her rejoices in its lasting power,