| |
| UPON a couch of silk and gold | |
| A pale enchanted lady lies, | |
| And o’er her many a frowning fold | |
| Of crimson shades her closed eyes; | |
| And shadowy creatures round her rise, | 5 |
| And ghosts of women masqued in woe, | |
| And many a phantom pleasure flies, | |
| And lovers slain—ah, long ago! | |
| |
| The lady, pale as now she sleeps, | |
| An age upon that couch hath lain, | 10 |
| Yet in one spot a spirit keeps | |
| His mansion, like a red-rose stain; | |
| And, when lovers’ ghosts complain, | |
| Blushes like a new-born flower, | |
| Or as some bright dream of pain | 15 |
| Dawneth through the darkest hour. | |
| |
| Once,—but many a thought hath fled | |
| Since the time whereof I speak,— | |
| Once, the sleeping lady bred | |
| Beauty in her burning cheek, | 20 |
| And the lovely morn did break | |
| Through the azure of her eyes, | |
| And her heart was warm and meek, | |
| And her hope was in the skies. | |
| |
| But the lady loved at last, | 25 |
| And the passion pained her soul, | |
| And her hope away was cast | |
| Far beyond her own control; | |
| And the clouded thoughts that roll | |
| Through the midnight of the mind | 30 |
| O’er her eyes of azure stole, | |
| Till they grew deject and blind. | |
| |
| He to whom her heart was given, | |
| When May-music was in tune, | |
| Dared forsake that amorous heaven, | 35 |
| Changed and careless soon!— | |
| O, what is all beneath the moon | |
| When his heart will answer not! | |
| What are all the dreams of noon | |
| With our love forgot! | 40 |
| |
| Heedless of the world she went, | |
| Sorrow’s daughter, meek and lone, | |
| Till some spirit downwards bent | |
| And struck her to this sleep of stone. | |
| Look! Did old Pygmalion | 45 |
| Sculpture thus, or more prevail, | |
| When he drew the living tone | |
| From the marble pale? | |
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