THE breaths of kissing night and day Were mingled in the eastern heaven; Throbbing with unheard melody Shook Lyra all its star-chord seven: When dusk shrunk cold, and light trod shy, And dawn’s gray eyes were troubled gray; And souls went palely up the sky, And mine to LucidÉ. There was no change in her sweet eyes Since last I saw those sweet eyes shine; There was no change in her deep heart Since last that deep heart knocked at mine. Her eyes were clear, her eyes were Hope’s, Wherein did ever come and go The sparkle of the fountain-drops From her sweet soul below. The chambers in the house of dreams Are fed with so divine an air, That Time’s hoar wings grow young therein, And they who walk there are most fair. I joyed for me, I joyed for her, Who with the Past meet girt about, Where our last kiss still warms the air, Nor can her eyes go out. |