Classic Poem

Low as the distant Waterfall,
The melody began;
But swelled till through the festal hall,
The loudest echo ran:—
Each eye dilated, flashed around,
Expressive of surprise;
And Silence reigned in awe profound,
Except disturbed by sighs.

Soft on the sable wing of night,
The music passed away,—
Like warblings of a happy sprite,
Relieved from cumbrous clay.
Soft as the tones the lover pours
Upon his mistress' ear,
In Memory's most enchanting hours,
When all is fond and dear.

It ceased, but ah! a Maiden's heart
With rapture's pulse beat high;—
The magic-sound could well impart,
What tongue would but deny.
Her eyes with brightest lustre shone,
As starlight in the sea:—
She rushed to her lover's arms alone,
And swooned in ecstacy.