A Vision.

As hard at work I trimmed the midnight lamp,             Yfilling of mine head with classic lore,         Mine hands firm clasped upon my temples damp,             Methought I heard a tapping at the door;         'Come in,' I cried, with most unearthly rore,             Fearing a horrid Dun or Don to see,         Or Tomkins, that unmitigated bore,             Whom I love not, but who alas! loves me,         And cometh oft unbid and drinketh of my tea.         'Come in,' I rored; when suddenly there rose             A magick form before my dazzled eyes:         'Or do I wake,' I asked myself 'or doze'?             Or hath an angel come in mortal guise'?         So wondered I; but nothing mote surmise;             Only I gazed upon that lovely face,         In reverence yblent with mute surprise:             Sure never yet was seen such wondrous grace,         Since Adam first began to run his earthlie race.         Her hands were folded on her bosom meek;             Her sweet blue eyes were lifted t'ward the skie;         Her lips were parted, yet she did not speak;             Only at times she sighed, or seemed to sigh:         In all her 'haviour was there nought of shy;             Yet well I wis no Son of Earth would dare,         To look with love upon that lofty eye;             For in her beauty there was somewhat rare,         A something that repell'd an ordinary stare.         Then did she straight a snowycloth disclose             Of samite, which she placed upon a chair:         Then, smiling like a freshly-budding rose,             She gazed upon me with a witching air,         As mote a Cynic anchorite ensnare.             Eftsoons, as though her thoughts she could not smother,         She hasted thus her mission to declare: -             'Please, these is your clean things I've brought instead of brother,         'And if you'll pay the bill you'll much oblige my mother.'         (1860).