Classic Poem

Oh , never, lady, had I met
A face before where Heaven had set
In liquid, wavy, fitful light,
That thrilling, touching, undefined
Sheen and shadow of the mind
That trembled on thy brow;
But there was something wild and high
In thy proud step and kindling eye,
That made my very spirit bow.
'Twas like the spell earth's daughters wore
In old forgotten days of yore,
When angels left their home above
For woman's smile and woman's love.
It seemed that thou wert sent to bless,
And yet I seemed to love thee less
Than softer beings round thee. They
Had never caught a single ray
Of that pure light that came from Heaven
When thy proud intellect was given.
Still they were beautiful; their eyes,
Like starlight in the evening skies,
Half concealing, half revealing,
Glowing depths of love's own feeling,
Linger in remembrance yet,
Like dreams I may not soon forget.
Thou didst not mingle with the crowd,
And many whispered thou wert proud
Of thy surpassing beauty. Still
I hovered round, against my will,
Like one who struggles to be free
From some strange charmer's witchery.
Lady, I did not love thee then,
Nor wish that we might meet again,
For well I knew that wealth and state
And influence were thine,
And deemed that they would separate
Thy starry path from mine.
I did not dream that thou wouldst be
The angel of my destiny;
That thy soft praises would inspire
The music of my humble lyre;
That thou wouldst point to fame's proud chart
When darkness o'er my spirit stole,
And pour the sunshine of thy heart
Upon my clouded soul.
I did not know thine eye could melt
And bid the burning tear-drop start;
That sympathy and kindness dwelt
Like jewels in thy queenly heart,
Casting afar their lovely beams,
To light the dark, the troubled streams
Of human anguish, human grief;
I did not know thy cheek would pale
At weeping sorrow's mournful tale,
Nor that thy hand would give relief.