I shall not see its like again! the brow
Of passive marble, purely aureoled,—
As some pale lily in the afterglow,—
With supernatural gold.
As if a rose should speak and, somehow heard
By some strange sense, the unembodied sound
Grow visible, her mouth was as a word
A sweet thought falters 'round.
So do I still remember eyes imbued
With far reflections—as the stars suggest
The silence, purity and solitude
Of infinite peace and rest.
She was my all. I loved her as men love
A high desire, religion, an ideal—
The meaning purpose in the loss whereof
God shall alone reveal.
THE SEA SPIRIT
Ah me! I shall not waken soon
From dreams of such divinity!
A spirit singing in the moon
To me.
White sea-spray driven of the storm
Were not so wildly white as she!
She beckoned with a foam-white arm
To me.
With eyes dark green, and golden-green
Loose locks that sparkled drippingly,
Out of the green wave she did lean
To me.