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A Vision.

As hard at work I trimmed the midnight lamp,

Yfilling of mine head with classic lore,

Mine hands firm clasped upon my temples damp,

Methought I heard a tapping at the door;

'Come in,' I cried, with most unearthly rore,

Fearing a horrid Dun or Don to see,

Or Tomkins, that unmitigated bore,

Whom I love not, but who alas! loves me,

And cometh oft unbid and drinketh of my tea.

'Come in,' I rored; when suddenly there rose

A magick form before my dazzled eyes:

'Or do I wake,' I asked myself 'or doze'?

Or hath an angel come in mortal guise'?

So wondered I; but nothing mote surmise;

Only I gazed upon that lovely face,

In reverence yblent with mute surprise:

Sure never yet was seen such wondrous grace,

Since Adam first began to run his earthlie race.

Her hands were folded on her bosom meek;

Her sweet blue eyes were lifted t'ward the skie;

Her lips were parted, yet she did not speak;

Only at times she sighed, or seemed to sigh:

In all her 'haviour was there nought of shy;

Yet well I wis no Son of Earth would dare,

To look with love upon that lofty eye;

For in her beauty there was somewhat rare,

A something that repell'd an ordinary stare.

Then did she straight a snowycloth disclose

Of samite, which she placed upon a chair:

Then, smiling like a freshly-budding rose,

She gazed upon me with a witching air,

As mote a Cynic anchorite ensnare.

Eftsoons, as though her thoughts she could not smother,

She hasted thus her mission to declare: -

'Please, these is your clean things I've brought instead of brother,

'And if you'll pay the bill you'll much oblige my mother.'

(1860).