Classic Poem

I.

When the King of day
Had passed away,
From this unhappy sphere,
And the Queen of night,
Rose with new light,
Amid the stars so clear;
When the busy hum,
Of the commerce drum,
Beat but a muffled tone;
And silence sate
With head elate,
Upon her peaceful throne.

II.

Then 'mid my woes,
For a night's repose,
I stretched my body down;
And closed my sight
On the shades of night,
And Day's embittered frown;
And felt my breast
Half soothed to rest,
In a kind of welcome trance;
But my Fancy flew,
Through regions new,
Of glory and romance.

III.

And by its sway
I winged away
To spots of fondest sight;
And there I saw
— With greatest awe —
Blest beings of the night;
Which touched my heart,
With fairy art —
With feelings fond and high;
Till last I thought,
That I was caught
Up to the starry sky.

IV.

And as I stood,
Far from the rude,
In an arbour of the pine;
Where all was grand,
As a mighty hand
Had formed them most divine;
And chanced to look
On an amber brook,
Which gently swept along;
Where fish of gold,
Their glory told,
In an aquatic song.

V.

Then there was formed,
A maid adorned
In splendour shining bright;
Possessing mind,
Like the angel kind,
Or high exalted sprite.
And on her face,
A ray kept pace
With the warm thoughts of her heart;
And when she smiled,
'Twas as a child —
Without affected art.

VI.

I trembling said,
" Most beauteous maid,
What is thy gracious will?
Why dost thou smile
On a mortal vile!
And what wouldst thou reveal?
Say, art thou here
My soul to cheer,
And ease my fevered brain!
Oh! speak thy mind,
That I may find
My breast at rest from pain. "

VII.

Then a harp she strung
And sweetly sung. —
" Arise and hear thy fate!
I am no sprite
From realms of light,
Nor am I an Angel great!
But I'm a maid,
With sacred dread,
Long cherished in thy breast; —
No more repine,
I'll soon be thine,
In happy wedlock blest! "

VIII.

I stood and gazed,
With eyes upraised,
As she dropt the mellow strain;
And I tried to speak,
For my heart was meek —
But my tongue would not again;
So I stretch my arms,
To embrace her charms, —
Bright as the meteor-beam;
But, alas! she flew,
As the lightning's hue,
And I burst the delusive dream.