Classic Poem

A SUBTILE charm bewildered me,
As in a depth of wood
No scent of moss, or flower, or tree,
But the soft air that blends the three
Inspires a dreamy mood.

Eyes pensive 'neath their fringe's shade,
Sedate lips which disclosed
The pearly keys on which were played
Clear words that in me music made
And gentlest thoughts disposed.

A vestal shape framed to entrance
Sculptors from Phidias down,
Allure an Exarch to the dance,
Or fire the bravest knightly lance
That e'er won tourney's crown.

But how shall tongue or pencil tell,
Or eye the secret learn,
Of that unseen electric spell
Which made the heart renascent swell,
The soul with transport burn?

Yet were I mad to analyse
The mainsprings of a joy;
Yon magic gewgaw children prize
Draws tears if we anatomise
And disenchant the toy.

Sweet mystery! this photograph,
In twilight caught, is thine;
Beneath I write its epigraph,
“The precious cup I may not quaff,
But I can bless the wine!”