Page:Poems Eckley.djvu/37

I said as the fire burn'd out on the hearth,
 Dissolving the frescoes in gloom,—
With senses entranc'd has my spirit broke free
 From the body, the soul's only tomb?

The fire that burn'd in those dim restless depths,
 Drew shadows I'd ne'er seen before,
Long, long I stood gazing—transfix'd with the sight,
 I had enter'd my soul's open door.

I seemed to be dreaming, yet still not asleep,
 Each sense was so quickened to sight,
There were galleries, gardens, and flowers—Alas!
 Weeds too—noxious weeds, that no blight

Had faded or withered—strong root had they all,
 Too long had they choked up and barred
The palace within, a "temple" so called,
 Whose threshold with evil was scarr'd.

Yet still there were flowers, altho' every root
 Twined fast to some weed I deplored;
Alas! must each blossom of loveliness cling
 To some evil sincerely abhorred?

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