Classic Poem

Miranda! dreaming through the starry night,
Thine, the far innocence of dead Elaine,
Thine, the rapt beauty of Cecilia's face,
Thine, the white fire of Mary's last embrace,
Thine, life's mad phantasy of love-in-pain,
Till, seraph-winged, our wedded soul takes flight.

Thine, the far innocence of dead Elaine,
When thirsty boyhood knelt beside the spring
Of life, and drank her crystal beauty there:
Not dead—but vanished from the noontide glare,
In the deep blue her soul is quivering—
In thy great tears she'll come to me again.

Thine, the rapt beauty of Cecilia's face,
Touched with the light that shines beyond the stars,
What though her soul to Heaven was dedicate!
Her woman-heart fled its celestial fate,
Down-fluttering wildly through earth's passion-bars,
To find in love her final resting-place.

Thine, the white fire of Mary's last embrace,
And terror-stricken eyes, wherein there bled
Immortal love, by mortal anguish slain;
Wrapped in the splendour of her passion-pain,
She snatched herself away, and left me dead
To sorrow—in the wonder of her face.

Thine, life's mad phantasy of love-in-pain:
A lurid flash, in dazzled downpour shriven!
Wan guiding-stars confounded in black night!
O Love! until our sundered souls unite
My heart can never rest, but still is driven
To find, in seeking thee, that search is vain.

Till, seraph-winged, our wedded soul takes flight,
Thine, life's mad phantasy of love-in-pain,
Thine, the white fire of Mary's last embrace,
Thine, the rapt beauty of Cecilia's face,
Thine, the far innocence of dead Elaine,
Miranda! dreaming through the starry night.