A Chamber Scene

Tread softly through these amorous rooms;
For every bough is hung with life,
And kisses in harmonious strife,
Unloose their sharp and wing'd perfumes!
From Afric, and the Persian looms,
The carpet's silken leaves have sprung,
And Heaven, in its blue bounty, flung
These starry flowers, and azure blooms.

Tread softly! By a creature fair
The Deity of love reposes,
His red lips open, like the roses
Which round his hyacinthine hair
Hang in crimson coronals;
And Passion fills the arched halls;
And Beauty floats upon the air.

Tread softly — softly, like the foot
Of Winter, shod with fleecy snow,
Who cometh white, and cold, and mute,
Lest he should wake the Spring below.
Oh, look! — for here lie Love and Youth,
Fair Spirits of the heart and mind:
Alas! that one should stray from truth;
And one — be ever, ever, blind!
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