Dark, and drear, and desolate, On a mossy crag I sate, Watching through the heavenly gate Many a solemn angel-band Marching to the spirit-land, When Love tapping on the door Of my heart, did there implore A home implore. Trembling, shivering, timid-hearted, As a ghost of the departed From the gates of light had drifted, And with icy fingers lifted Up the latchet of the door Of my doting heart once more Ah me once more! Then aside I dashed the tear, And all thoughtless did begin To tell Love to enter in, When an Angel sought this shore To defeat him at the door My lone heart's door. Low his golden tresses streaming As my soul he would explore— And this Cupid by the door My lone heart's door. Calmly then the Angel spoke, Words that o'er my spirit broke, Like the chimes in dream-land woke 66 Sad, meek solitaire of earth, Loving, trusting from thy birth- Turn this traitor from the door Thy lone heart's door. "In thy breast he seeks no home, From the blitheşt he will roam ; He will enter the heart's dome, Filch its every jewel fair, Plant his barbed arrow there, And then straight go out the door, Back returning never more Ah! never more! "Search the chronicles of Love, See the nets that he has wove, To entrap the timid dove; See in Lethe's crowded domes Ashes of his hecatombs ; And I wot thou'lt keep the door Of thy heart locked ever more- "Blossoms in thy heart may bloom, Lone thy spirit's ear will greet, Ah! ever more! "Therefore, mournful child of song, And let Reason keep the door For ever more." When the Angel this had said, Of my heart for ever more Ah! ever more! But this heart would not obey It would have its wilful way; It made Love its chiefest guest, Till he banished peace and rest, When he straight went out the door, Locking woe in ever more— Ah! ever more! SONNETS TO MY STUDY. I. MY STUDY. THIS is my world-my angel-guarded shrine, Or, when aweary and athirst I pine Or, wafted by some stronger current, glide, Where darker frown the steeps and deeper flows the tide. |