Through this small window-pane
Such tender glances thou dost give to me,
As beamed in eyes I ne'er shall see again;
They look from heaven, like thee.
And so I sit and dream:
Thine image blends with hers, my long-lost bride,
Till thou no more art distant: nay, dost seem
An angel at my side.
And thus thou art to each:
There is no coldness in thy trembling kiss;
Thou com'st with silent love, more sweet than speech,
To sorrow, and to bliss.
Beautiful Mystery!
My grateful spirit draweth near to One
Who placed thee smiling in the darkling sky
A visible benison.
I see how perfectly
Within each soul, the sacred sun may shine;
I know the great Heart of Eternity
Feels each faint throb of mine.
[REVELATIONS OF WALL-STREET:]
BEING THE HISTORY OF CHARLES ELIAS PARKINSON.
BY RICHARD B. KIMBALL, AUTHOR OF ST. LEGER.