Classic Poem

Oh, thou whose beauty on us beams
With glimpses of celestial light;
Thou halo of our waking dreams,
And early star that crown'st our night;

Thy light is magic where it falls;
To thee the deepest shadow yields;
Thou bring'st unto these dreary halls
The lustre of the summer-fields.

There is a freedom in thy looks
To make the prisoned heart rejoice;—
In thy blue eyes I see the brooks,
And hear their music in thy voice.

And every sweetest bird that sings
Hath poured a charm upon thy tongue;
And where the bee enamoured clings,
There surely thou in love hast clung:—

For when I hear thy laughter free,
And see thy morning-lighted hair,
As in a dream at once I see
Fair upland realms and valleys fair.

I see thy feet empearled with dews,
The violet's and the lily's loss;
And where the waving woodland woos
Thou lead'st me over beds of moss;—

And by the busy runnel's side,
Whose waters, like a bird afraid,
Dart from their fount, and flashing, glide
Athwart the sunshine and the shade.

Or larger streams our steps beguile;—
We see the cascade, broad and fair,
Dashed headlong down to foam, the while
Its iris-spirit leaps to air!

Alas! as by a loud alarm,
The fancied turmoil of the falls
Hath driven me back and broke the charm
Which led me from these alien walls:—

Yes, alien, dearest child, are these
Close city walls to thee and me:
My homestead was embowered with trees,
And such thy heritage should be:—

And shall be;—I will make for thee
A home within my native vale,
Where every brook and ancient tree
Shall whisper some long-treasured tale.

Now once again I see thee stand,
As down the future years I gaze,
The fairest maiden of the land,
The spirit of those sylvan ways.

And in thy looks again I trace
The light of her who gave thee birth;
She who endowed thy form and face
With glory which is not of Earth.

And as I gaze upon her now,
My heart sends up a prayer for thee,
That thou mayest wear upon thy brow
The light which now she beams on me.