Classic Poem

As from the throng of moving masks
I drew a space apart,
Well known to some unknown to me,
By my imperfect Art,
One, in the habit of a nun,
Stopped short, as in surprise,
And through her domino I saw
Two soft, regarding eyes.

Long looked we both, for half I felt
Her gaze no mischief spoke,
And knew it, when a woman's hand
Reached to me from the cloak;
A voice I never heard before,
But most sincere and sweet,
Said, " Ah! my love, do we once more
Touch hand to hand and meet? "

" Fair domino, " I said, " indeed,
Unmask before you go,
And tell your trouble in my ear,
Why do you tremble so? "
" I tremble for the virgin years
When o'er my mind supreme,
You were the hero of my fears,
The gallant of my dream. "

" And did I never know your will,
When then, perchance, my heart
Like yours, was longing for a shrine,
A mistress, or an art? "
" No, mine was all the pleasant pain,
And heaven permits it here,
To say that still, as when a child,
I follow your career.

" My husband passes — Nay! you must!
No guilty secret mine. "
A strong man's hand came frankly forth,
I saw his dark eyes shine;
" In honor's way God keep you long! "
These manly sounds I heard,
" And never may you cease to be
Our favorite household word. "

They vanished in the moving crowd
And left me wondering quite,
Until I heard my comrade say:
" Whom have you seen to-night? "
" To guess, " I said, " were fruitless task,
When all this maze I see;
But, if they ever come in mask,
Two angels spoke to me. "